#if she actually wanted to she could probably easily build herself a mobile body. but why would she. like i said she's already in control

[prankprincess123]

I genuinely know multiple people in their 80's and 90's who are doing hard-core hikes on a weekly basis because they've kept their bodies and minds healthy. Where I live there's actually a team of park rangers whose whole job is keeping track of the town's oldest resident and keeping him from doing any of the bigger hikes, not because he can't physically do them but because he's like 95yo and they don't want to be liable if something does happen. When my great-grandma was around 80yo she was told she wasn't allowed to go on her morning hike alone, and so she started taking me - a literal 3/4yo - with her up the mountain every morning after we did calisthenics and before anyone else woke up, and she was bringing her walker on smaller hikes even a month before she died when I was a 19yo.

I also know people in their 40's and 50's who get winded walking up a flight of stairs because physical health was never a priority for them. I have an uncle who spent most of his childhood on crutches, and after getting off never felt the need to do the necessary physiotherapy to regain full mobility, and thus never had the ability to easily keep healthy in other ways, and he is so out of shape in so many ways that he struggles to pick up his TINY 6yo daughter. I have an aunt who for my entire childhood would be dripping sweat and have to take her inhaler after walking across the backyard, and a few years ago - in her early 40's - fell and messed up her hips, knees, and left wrist & elbow, and suddenly could barely climb a staircase without crying in pain, because her weakened joints couldn't support her weight.

But its not completely irreversible. That same aunt, after her fall, realized that she still wanted to be able to move and play with nieces and nephews, and started paying attention to her physical health. It's not a care about body image at all, and she still really doesn't mind being fat and embraces it as having extra padding for better snuggles. But she's started doing physiotherapy, stretching daily, watching what she eats more closely, and going for walks on a regular basis - starting small and working herself up - and regaining her health. She hasn't cut out sugar or carbs, and still has at least one Pepsi per day, but she's being more mindful of things like snacking on fruit rather than candy or nuts rather than chips. She's still and will probably always be overweight, and she certainly will never be able to go a full day without her inhalers due to athsma and allergies. But she's lost a significant amount of fat-weight and built up more muscle-weight than she's had in my life just from starting moving more and is able to take a walk around town or go on very short hikes without getting winded or being in pain. A few weeks ago I even saw her RUN across the backyard, bend to pick up my 4yo niece - her grand-niece - (who is actually bigger than my 6yo cousin mentioned above) and spin her around, without difficulty.

Just move. Take a walk around the block if possible. Stretch your limbs for 30s a day if that's all you can. Build up those muscles and strengthen your joints. Your body will thank you, and you'll be in better health and your body will age more gracefully if you do.

A lot of younger people have no idea what aging actually looks and feels like, and the reasons behind it. That ignorance is so dangerous. If you don’t want to “be old,” you aren’t talking about a number of years. I have patients in their late 80s who could still handily beat me in a race—one couple still runs marathons together, in their late 80s—and I lost someone who was in her early 60s to COPD last year. What you want is not youth, it is health.

If you want to still be able to enjoy doing things in your 60s and 70s and 80s and even 90s, what you want to do, right now, is quit smoking, get some activity on a regular basis (a couple of walks a week is WAY better for you than nothing; increasing from 1 hour a day of cardio to 1.5 will buy you very little), and eat some plants. That��s it. No magic to it. No secret weird tricks. Don’t poison yourself, move around so your body doesn’t forget how, and eat plants.

If you have trouble moving around now because of mobility limitations, bad news: you still need to move around, not because it’s immoral not to, but because that’s still the best advice we have. I highly recommend looking up the Sit and Be Fit series; it is freely available and has exercises that can be done in a chair, which are suitable for people with limited mobility or poor balance. POTS sufferers, I’m looking at you.

If you have trouble eating plants because of dietary issues (they cause gas, etc.) or just because they’re bitter (super taster with texture issues here!), bad news. You still want to find a way to get some plants into your body on a regular basis. I know. It sucks. The only way I can do it is restaurants—they can make salads taste like food. I can also tolerate some bagged salads. On bad weeks, the OCD with contamination focus gets so bad I just can’t. However, canned beans always seem “safe,” and they taste a bit like candy, so they’re a good fallback.

If you smoke and you have tried quitting a million times and you’re just not ready to, bad news. You still need to quit. Your body needs you to try and keep trying. Your brain needs it, too. Damaging small blood vessels racks up cumulative damage over time that your body can start trying to reverse as soon as you quit. I know it’s insanely, absurdly addictive. You still need to.

You cannot rules lawyer your way past your body’s basic needs. It needs food, sleep, activity, and the absence of poison. Those are both small things and big asks. You cannot sustain a routine based on punishment, so don’t punish your body. Find ways to include these things that are enjoyable and rewarding instead. Experiment. There is no reason not to experiment—you don’t have to know instantly what’s going to work for you and what won’t, you just need to be willing to try things and make changes when things aren’t working for you.

You will still age. Your body will stop making collagen and elastin. Tissues you can see and tissues you can’t see will both sag. Cushioning tissues under your skin will get thinner. You’ll bruise more easily. Skin will tear more easily. Accumulated sun damage will start to show more and more. Joints will begin to show arthritis. Tendons and ligaments will get weaker and get injured more easily, as will muscles. Bones will lose mass and get easier to break. You’ll get tired more easily.

But you know what makes the difference between being dead, or as good as, in your 60s vs your 90s? Activity, plants, and quitting smoking. And don’t do meth. Saw a 58-year-old guy this week who is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t quit whatever stimulant he’s on. I pretended to believe it was just the cigarettes, and maybe it is, but meth and cocaine will kill you quicker. Stop poisoning yourself.

Baby steps; take it one step at a time; you don’t need to have everything figured out right now. But you do need to be working on figuring things out.

[some-new-disaster]

idk what's going on in the portal tag today but Yikes ™

[stories-by-rie]

Chapter 2 - Heart of Silver

Four years before Evelyn gets herself cursed, she meets Ariel for the first time; and a second time, featuring a stinky Mare.

words: 2665 || masterlist

It had all started in a club. It was a tiny one, close to the university, with mostly students working and partying there. For many, it was both a good way to earn a bit on the side, and to get the mind off nearing exams. The music was mostly pop, with some nichey songs in between, mixed in a way where no one could really complain.

    For Evelyn, it simply was too loud. She could feel the bass in her heart. The room’s air was hot and heavy, and smelled like alcohol and sweat. People were screaming over the music, laughing, possibly also being aggressive. 

    Her phone buzzed in her hand.

    Mareike wrote, just leave, come over to mine instead, we’re having chocolate cake and watching old horror movies.

    With a sigh, Evelyn typed her answer, I promised Kyla, I should at least stay a full hour. She held onto her first beer, but people pushed from all sides, so she slipped up anyway and felt the grip on her bottle lessen. Really, in such situations one had to set priorities, so she focused on the bottle, stumbled over someone else’s foot, and saw her phone fall to the ground. Over the loud noise, she didn’t hear it hit the ground, but she flinched nonetheless.

    “Very sorry!” she yelled to whoever she had run into without even looking up, eyes on the ground. As she reached out to it, she saw her hand shaking slightly. Too much noise and too many people.

    Her phone buzzed on the ground, the blue light showing her just where to reach.

    “Broken?” A voice asked and when Evelyn looked at her phone, it indeed had a thin line running through the display.

    “Just the display, I hope. Sorry, again.”

    “No problem. You should have stuck with simple mobile phones, they don’t break that easily.”

    Evelyn finally looked at the person who held a flip-phone in one of their hands, an alarmingly blue cocktail in the other that was only overshadowed by the bright blue of their hair.

    “That’s so 2009,” was all Evelyn could say which was not a good thing for small-talk, but she blamed it on her anxiety or the alcohol.

    “You don’t look like you want to be here,” the person said, tilting their head in a way that made the colourful lights reflect in their glasses for a moment.

    “I really, really don’t want to be here.”

    “Then why are you?”

    “My… my friends are somewhere-” she pointed in the general direction of the dance floor where it was impossible to single out any familiar faces in the mass of dancing people.

    “Ah,” was all the other said. For some reason, Evelyn was certain she was understood despite her stammering.

    “I’m Evelyn,” she mumbled, ignoring the buzzing in her hand again. She wasn’t sure if she would meet the other again, if in any way exchanging names would matter. But she felt compelled to.

    “Ariel. I use they/them pronouns, if you were wondering.”

    Evelyn replied with a smile. She had been wondering.

    “That’s a nice name.”

    “Thanks, I chose it myself.” Ariel grinned and drank a bit of their cocktail.

    And -- really, this could only be blamed on Evelyn’s anxious state paired with the alcohol -- she blurted out, “Ariel as in the Little Mermaid?”

    Ariel nearly choked on their drink and shook their head. “Curses, no!” Even if they looked a bit amused and somewhat quieter, though enough to be heard, they added, “Ariel as in the Sylph in The Tempest by Shakespeare.”

    Evelyn smiled and put the phone in her jeans pocket, held onto the bottle in her hand instead.

    “Why are you here?” she then asked, even if it was probably a dumb question. Most people did come to party after all, but Ariel seemed to have come on their own and at least that was a bit unusual. 

    “I am glad you asked. I heard there’s a Mare living in the air vent in the restrooms. I came to kick it out.”

    “By yourself?” Evelyn nearly dropped her beer again.

    “Well, I hoped I would run into someone who is better with those creature thingies than me, but if this turns out to be fruitless, I am willing to drag the Mare out with my own hands.”

    “Don’t do that! A Mare is much stronger than you and would cling to you instead! You would not even notice, just feel the pressure on your chest and suffer tremendously from bad dreams every night- that’s- that’s really not how you’re supposed to handle Mares!” Evelyn had spoked too fast, stumbled over her own tongue in haste to keep Ariel from making a mistake, and only now that she saw their -- victorious? -- grin, did she notice what she said. It felt as if she had walked straight into a trap.

    “Sounds a bit like you know your fair share.” The way Ariel said it, they did not sound in the least surprised.

    “You knew.”

    “What are you in for again?”

    “Psychology.” Evelyn took a step back, clutching her beer tighter.

    Ariel followed her, narrowing their eyes. “Liar.”

    “I studied Mythology and Mystical Practices before, but I didn’t graduate, so it doesn’t mean anything.”

    “You still have the knowledge, though.” Ariel looked smug, sipping on their cocktail and Evelyn knew that they wouldn’t relent. But it really was not in her place to help.

    “If there is a Mare in the vent, you should notify the building’s janitor, so that they can then call a company that specialises in this. The insurance might not cover the victims’ therapy if the whole situation isn’t handled following the book, so. Please, really, don’t mess with it. Sometimes it’s better to just leave these things alone.”

    Nausea spread in her stomach. It was time to go. She really had indulged her friends for long enough, wherever they might be amusing themselves. Her heart beat in an unsteady rhythm, calling for sleep or distractions. She turned around, looking at the green exit sign, but Ariel kept talking. 

    “I already did notify the janitor, but he didn’t take me seriously. So I then contacted the owner, but he would not even talk to me. That’s why I decided to take the matter into my own hands and you will help me.”

    “I absolutely will not.” The thought alone made her skin itchy, made the air in the club even harder to breathe. She looked down at her phone, several messages demanding to be read. She quickly unlocked it and opened the group chat.

    I’ll head home, hope you still have some fun! Had a nice evening ^^

    To Mareike’s messages of, r u home yet? just send an emoji that ur fine, she replied with a sparkles emoji.

    “I’ll go,” she said, looking up to Ariel, but they were already gone. A hint of guilt crept into her bones – maybe she had been too harsh? But her heart beat so fast it made her cheeks feel hot, so she really needed fresh air. She put down her beer on a nearby table and fought her way through the sweaty bodies until she saw the night sky above her. The summer heat was not much better.

    The second time she met Ariel was roughly two weeks after their first encounter, on campus during lunch time. Ariel was sitting – lounging – on a bench under some birches. The small leaves were barely enough to provide shelter from the staggering sun. Evelyn really just noticed them because their iced coffee fell right out of their hand, rolling all the way down to her feet.

    “You lost something,” Evelyn said and held out the cup to them. She felt more than uncomfortable the longer she stood there, but she had started it now, maybe feeling still a bit guilty for the last time. The lid had kept most of the coffee inside but some of the cold and slightly sticky beverage still dripped down her fingers. Ariel pushed up their heart-shaped sunglasses, their own glasses underneath, and looked at the cup quizzically. Since they had last met, Ariel had gotten deep shadows under their red-rimmed eyes.

    “You look awful,” Evelyn said, forgetting about the existence of her verbal filter.

    “Thanks, it’s the exams.”

    “What do you-”

    “Doing my Masters in Curses.”

    “That’s a thing?”

    Ariel froze a bit and then mumbled, “I am sort of making it a thing?”

    They finally took the iced coffee out of Evelyn’s hand, took off the lid, chugged it all at once and threw it into the bin next to the bench.

    “Sounds very cool. And useful,” Evelyn mumbled and nearly missed how Ariel’s eyes shut again, only for them to flinch back awake. “You seem incredibly tired, though.”

    “It’s the stress, don’t worry. It’s giving me bad dreams, is all.”

    They looked each other in the eyes, communicating silently that they both knew that the other knew. It was Evelyn who finally broke it.

    “You can’t be serious. You really went into that vent to get the Mare alone? You can’t just do that.”

    Ariel just shrugged and let the sunglasses drop down again. “Well, actually I could. It wasn’t even hard. I just climbed from the toilet seat to the air vent – which is much smaller than it looks in movies, by the way – and crawled through it following the snoring sounds. Then I saw the Mare – which was the ugliest thing I laid sight upon so far, by the way – and hunted it through the maze. Just that I kinda lost it after ten seconds or so. I swear I could still hear it, but it was just too dark and I didn’t really think to bring a flash-light. Damn, it really scared the shit out of me, because I kept turning around? But there was nothing.”

    “That’s because the Mare climbed onto your back and stuck to you then. I told you that would happen, but you didn’t listen. So of course you are tired now, you’re haunted by it.”

    “Ah, right. You did say that.” Ariel rested their head on their hand and pouted. “That’s the bad dreams then.”

    “Yeah. Mares eat good dreams, so you only have the bad ones, and more of them to fill the blanks.” Evelyn sat down next to them, a little helpless.

    “I never have good dreams, though. Just weird ones. The kind where a giant slug comes and eats my master thesis and I give it strawberries as a thank. I miss the slug, I used to call it Bob.”

    Evelyn raised an eyebrow at them, uncertain if they were being serious, joking, or if it was the lack of sleep.

    “Well, maybe you will get lucky and the Mare will lose its sanity and leave you alone soon.”

    “That can happen?”

    “No.”

    Ariel groaned and stretched, only to slump down again. “What do I do now?”

    “Hire a company to get rid of it. Just know that no insurance company is gonna cover it, because you dragged the Mare into your bedroom yourself. You basically asked it to come inside.”

    Ariel pulled a face and sighed heavily. “I can’t afford that. Can’t you come?”

    “If you study curses, haven’t you covered mythological practices in your bachelor's too?”

    “Not really. Just in theory. In more practical terms, I already only focused on curses back then. I want to be a curse-broker, so I never bothered with anything beyond ghosts. You seem to be able to, though. You never once mentioned that you wouldn’t be able to help me, just that you didn’t want to.”

    Evelyn didn’t answer. They were right, of course. She had learnt everything she needed to know long before she had entered uni for the first time, growing up as the daughter of the owners of a company specializing on mythological creatures. Studying that at uni was supposed to only give her the licence to work in the field, she hadn’t gained new knowledge at any point.

    “Have you ever considered that I might really suck at dealing with creatures? I might make the situation worse for you,” she then mumbled, staring at the blue sky behind the birch leaves. She said it barely loud enough to be understood.

    “Do you?” Ariel worked through their bag and pulled out two lollies, offering one to Evelyn.

    “No,” she replied truthfully. “I am really bad with curses, though.” She unwrapped the lolly and put it into her mouth. “Curses are more my sister’s expertise.”

    Something in her voice must have betrayed her feelings. The hurt, the anger, the resentment. It was all she had to say to be understood. Ariel stayed silent for a long time as they sat on that bench, letting the lollies turn their tongues green. When lunch break was over, students walked over the campus to different buildings, but they stayed seated. 

    “She’s not dead, tho, is she? Wait! Did a Mare kill her?” Ariel then suddenly asked, their voice a bit shrill that it made Evelyn giggle.

    “Nah, don’t worry. Mares aren’t high class enough to kill you. Maybe the after effect of the insomnia would in due time, but I don’t know many cases in which it went that far,” Evelyn explained and bit on the lolly stick after the sugar had dissolved inside her mouth. “My sister’s fine. She went abroad.” Evelyn then frowned as the trees’ shadows moved with the sun, the bright light blinding her now. They had sat there for a while. “To the USA. I haven’t seen her in a while, it’s been one and a half years.”

    “You were close?” Ariel asked softly. Evelyn heard how they were more serious now.

    “Yeah. I mean. I am pretty sure that I am always closer to people than they are to me. But we got along well. We were a good team. She got this really good research opportunity in Philadelphia though. It’s good she went.”

    “But you still miss her.” Ariel handed her a new lolly with a grin and she accepted.

    “Yeah, I do. Of course, I do.”

    “Hm.” Ariel unwrapped their second lolly as well, eyes still droopy from their accidental nap. “Is she the reason you don’t go in the field anymore?”

    “More or less,” Evelyn started, and the fear of oversharing hit her. But Ariel had asked, in some way at least. “After she left, I tried to make up for the gap she left behind. It did not work out well. I messed up this one job and no one got hurt, but it just reminded me that I was kinda raised into it all and it felt wrong so I left.”

    “Huh. So you dumped your whole study subject?”

    “Yeah. I worked without a license. My parents covered it all up, which just felt even more wrong. I should have had to face the consequences, or at least my parents. I should have gotten banned from field work anyway, so leaving was the only choice to make.”

    “Do you miss it?”

    “Sometimes. A bit.”

    “I have just  the thing. Back at home there’s a Mare that I can’t afford to kick out professionally. It’s kinda stealing my sleep.”

    Without Evelyn noticing, they had come closer, a slightly mischievous grin on their lips. There really was no way to say no to them now. At some point she must have said something close to a yes, because Ariel was dragging her down the stairs towards the town and their apartment where the Mare occupied their bed. Evelyn wondered every now and then if all that conversation had been some detailed plan to lead her into that trap until she followed Ariel home to help them with the creature. But then again, she somehow had also followed Ariel into that new, quite weird friendship between them, so she did not actually mind that much.

----

previous chapter || WIP intro || masterlist || next chapter

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 1, chapter 8

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Content warnings: death mention, possible minor body horror with regards to injury

It had been a fortnight since Andariel. Morgan was adjusting to his new reality, one where speaking much louder than a whisper for more than a few sentences made it feel like he'd been screaming his throat raw. Where pain was out of proportion to the damage that caused it. Where his left arm was all but useless. Although he felt well enough to get up and move around, the wound on his arm showed no signs of closing. An inky colouration had spread out from the puncture, extending up above his elbow and down to his wrist. It turned his stomach to look at it. Any remaining strength in the limb was negated by the pain that shot through it at the slightest jostle or pull. Akara's expertise in the healing arts was not sufficient to handle a wound like this, caused by a demon queen and determined to linger. She had offered her sympathies and a supply of bandages, which at least allowed him to bind the damned thing so he didn't have to see it. His own limited knowledge of medicine did not extend to this manner of injury either, so simply keeping it covered and clean seemed like the best option available.

Morgan had been spending most of his time and energy on meditation and geomancy. Physical pursuits were not very attractive at the moment, so instead he focused on improving his magic. He would need it more than ever now, given the state of his arm. Eventually he would return to the graveyard he'd marked, to check on the restless spirits there, but he wasn't yet well enough for that journey.

The ground around the encampment was largely untended, but the soil was good. Morgan had been using it to flex his magical abilities cautiously, not wanting them to suffer from disuse. He turned small patches at a time, shuffling the richer earth up toward the surface bit by bit, until eventually there was a respectable area prepared. Nobody had asked him to install a garden, but it felt like it might be a useful contribution. It also helped to ground him. He had often tended the gardens back home, and found now that he was missing that work.

Short forays into the surrounding fields were still within the scope of Morgan's ability. Over the course of about a week, he'd managed to successfully transplant a reasonable variety of usable plants. Comfrey, feverfew, yarrow, and chamomile had all been easy enough to spot, and each had at least one medicinal use. They also had the benefit of being reasonably hardy, taking root well in the freshly turned earth. He had also experimented a little with some preparations of other plants he'd found - an outcrop of sway grass by a small lake, some sage nestled in among a patch of bright trefoil, a little bark from the willow just outside the encampment - but despite following standard procedures for preparation, none of the resultant concoctions did anything to relieve the pain of his injury. He took some fruits from what looked like an oleaster, intending to dry them for another attempt in the future, but he kept his expectations low. If the wound wasn't going to heal properly, it stood to reason that the other effects would also linger.

Cain had been good company, stopping by often. He inquired about the garden as it was talking shape and seemed legitimately interested in the various applications of the plants filling it. Morgan took care not to speak at too much length on any one topic, endlessly interesting though they were. Equally fascinating were the tales Cain had to share in exchange. The story of Tristram had been a sobering one, between the king's corruption by Diablo and the destruction it had wrought. And it seemed that it was not yet concluded, given the hero-turned-dark-wanderer who had fled. It would be worth pursuing that tale to its conclusion; Morgan's original request had been duly fulfilled, but the evident threat to the Balance was more pressing than returning to the Necropolis.

He'd also been alternating between meditating on ways to improve his clay golems and creating small versions to test the changes he'd thought of. So far he had come up with a lot of failed designs, going too far to the extremes to test the boundaries. A build with above average mobility that would crumble in combat, a strong and sturdy make that could absorb a great deal of punishment but would be too slow to hit anything that wasn't standing still. Now it was time to rein it in, to tinker with proportions and the flow of magic through the construct until something better emerged. Morgan slipped easily into the in-between state, retreating into his mind while his body rested in a comfortable cross-legged position. A pleasant breeze ruffled the leaves of the tree he was leaning against. Today would be good for focusing on the smaller details. He lost himself for a time in the contemplation of his designs.

A crawling, prickling discomfort pulled him back into reality. The sun was getting low in the sky. Someone had put their hand on his shoulder, and they were speaking to him.

"- word I've said, have you?" It was Blaise, looking annoyed.

Morgan shifted away from her, and she let her hand fall. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't hear you. I was meditating." The rough sound of his voice was another thing he was still getting used to. He rubbed his throat gingerly. Should have thought to keep some water nearby.

"Of course you were. I said, I talked to Kashya and she's agreed to give you some training. If you're going to keep fighting monsters and demons, you'll need some help. With your swordplay. It's not very good."

She was right, of course. Now that he could no longer hold a shield, his sword would have to be defensive as well - and magic had always been his strength, not actual physical strength or coordination. He'd been planning to refocus himself entirely on the magical side of things, but this was undeniably a good idea even if he didn't relish the prospect of physical training. Any formal instruction in the use of a sword would be useful.

"When?"

"You're welcome. Whenever you're ready. As soon as tomorrow." Instead of turning to go, she sat next to him. He expected her to keep talking, but she didn't. Maybe she was working up to something. The silence stretched uncomfortably. She didn't like him, she'd often said as much - so why was she staying so near? He'd been doing his best to be avoidable, true to his word. She hadn't been taking advantage of it, instead crossing his path at least once a day. Probably some sort of sense of obligation. The Sisterhood had been treating him with a cautious, grudging respect since Andariel's defeat. It was... strange.

That reminded him of a question he'd been meaning to ask. Now seemed as good a time as any, so he turned to study her. "Blaise. Why did you tell everyone I killed Andariel?"

She startled visibly and raised a hand to shush him. "What the hell, Morgan," she hissed, "you can't just say-" she cut herself off, looking around furtively. Apparently satisfied that nobody was eavesdropping, she continued in hushed tones. "Look, if Akara and Kashya knew I killed that big ugly bitch, they'd never let me get away from this backwater. It's different for you. They're expecting you to go. And when you leave, I'm going with you. At least until I'm well away from here. This place... I'm not really cut out to be part of something like this."

"Ah." That explanation made enough sense. He hadn't realized she wanted to leave, but then he often didn't realize things about other people. Perhaps he'd misinterpreted her loyalty as fondness. There wasn't always a correlation there. She hadn't exactly been talkative during their time together - not to him, not about personal wishes and desires. It also explained the closeness; by spending time around him, she was putting on a front, laying the groundwork that would justify her departure. Satisfied, he turned away to look at the sky. It was starting to be tinged with pink, and it was lovely to see.

"How do you do it?" Now it was her turn to scrutinize him. She was staring intently at his face as though it was going to hold anything other than confusion. Do what? Had he slipped back into his thoughts and missed part of the conversation? "I mean, doesn't it bother you?" That clarified nothing. He stared blankly, and she huffed. "People don't like you. As a necromancer. I mean, we didn't exactly give you a warm welcome. But there's no way it's just us. Your kind are... well, hated."

Oh, that. It was just a fact. He'd come to accept it easily enough. People didn't usually take kindly to him even before they knew his particular area of specialization. He shrugged, wondering idly what had lead to the question. She didn't seem to like that response.

"It's normal," he offered.

"It's not normal! How could you think that's normal? How do you... live with it?" She gesticulated, as though the waving of her hands might clarify her meaning. It did not. How else would he live? He took a moment to search for the words to frame it.

"As followers of Rathma, we are driven by pursuit of the Balance. What others think of us is not important."

"Not im- Morgan, of course it's important! The way people treat you matters. You have to rely on other people all the time."

"I try not to."

Blaise pinched the bridge of her nose as though the conversation was giving her a headache. "Yeah, I know you do. But sometimes you don't have a choice. Like - there's no way you could have gone up against Andariel alone, she would have killed you in a second."

"Mm." While certainly true, it didn't change much. Alone, he would have been more cautious, planned better. Probably died anyway. Others would have come to take his place. His individual life only held value in the contribution it could make toward the Balance. Death came inevitably to all things; to die in service was at least honourable.

Blaise seemed agitated. "I don't think you understand - this is life and death stuff. For fuck's sake, you nearly did die! When-" she lowered her voice, which had risen in frustration. It shook a little. "When I brought you to Akara, she argued with me. She didn't want to waste her supplies on you. She was just going to let you die on her doorstep, because she doesn't like you. That's not normal. You can't just think that's okay."

It certainly wasn't extraordinary. That was why necromancers generally brewed their own potions, not that he'd had either the time or the forethought to reach for his own during the encounter. He started to shrug again. Akara had been pleasant enough since - oh. All the pieces came together suddenly, but the picture they formed didn't quite make sense. Blaise had lied to save him. She'd decided, probably on an impulse, out of desperation, to frame him as the hero because the healer wasn't going to touch him otherwise. She had wanted him to live, and had sacrificed her own part in the story to ensure his survival.

Of course, that type of instinctively selfless behaviour was part of the reason he'd decided she was a genuinely good person. But having that kindness extended to him - that was new. He didn't quite know what to make of it. People weren't kind to him, as a rule. That was familiar, at least, predictable. It didn't feel like he'd done anything to earn this special treatment. He'd have to tread carefully.

"It's what I'm used to," he said quietly. "Death comes to all things. We do not expect others to delay it for us. But you... are extraordinary." It didn't really feel adequate, but he would need some time to process this new information, and the moment would be long past by then. "Thank you," he added. That also felt shallow. He had no reference to draw from - what was the appropriate way to convey this tangle of feelings? Indebtedness, surprise, gratitude, admiration, and those were just the aspects he had names for. He purposely held her gaze for a moment, hoping she would be able to glean something from that since his words weren't doing the job.

Blaise opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. Instead, she stood and stretched. "I bet you haven't even eaten today. Come on, Charsi made these beautiful rabbit pies. You have to try them." She extended her hand toward him. He didn't especially want to join a communal meal, but it would be rude to refuse such a rare offer. And he had, in fact, neglected to eat. He took her hand to pull himself up. Tomorrow he would attempt to train with Kashya, but right now he wouldn't worry about it.

[jaxsteamblog]

Jealousy

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

The next day, Katara and Zuko enjoyed their private access to one of the family spring bath rooms. The bath had that velvety feel that came with mineral rich water, and there was a thread of something more potent in the cloudy liquid, but it was ultimately comparable to tap water when ranked against her oasis. 

Feeling rejuvenated, and tingling with anxious glee about their interview being broadcast, they decided to take a risk and see some sights. As Zuko contemplated his itchy bandages for his face, Katara yanked a woven hat over his head instead. The wide brim cast enough of a shadow over his face to keep quick glances from noticing his scar.

“Is this really enough?” He asked as he settled into the wheelchair.

“Trust me, people are terribly afraid of invalids. They think it’s contagious.” Katara assured him.

“Hmm.” Zuko intoned, thinking back to plenty of instances in his life after the scarring.

The Misty Palms Oasis was an ancient marvel and had housed a multitude of communities in its history. Prior to the Hundred Year War, there had been some religious commune that acted as a healing sanctuary. At some point, that became commercialized, as the oasis could never be coaxed into sustainable farmland. The oasis turned into a bustling trading hub; the perfect stop to long, desert trade routes. 

The war disrupted that, as it had many things, and the desert brigands that had once been excluded from its respite took their claim. 

Avatar Aang had calmed a lot of the more unsavory traits of the oasis, but it never regained its previous, lofty reputation. 

Ivory tiled plazas marked out the spots for wealthy people, and hosted the simulacra of a spiritual well. But pockmarked about the sand dunes and low bone white walls were shabbier buildings. They collected tourists and travellers like the piles of red sand that made their wooden walls sag. 

Katara threaded away from those places, knowing that their small manners would invite the attention of merchants more easily than the curiosity of the more wealthy around. 

Still, certain walkways could not be avoided. 

The joyful sounds of some tavern spilled out in the morning air, and Katara yanked Zuko’s wheelchair back as the sound was followed by a stumbling body.

The man offered distracted apologies and Katara kept her head down as she navigated past him.

“Wait, Katara?” The man asked.

The breath in her lungs turned into helium and as she turned, it felt like she almost lifted off her feet.

“Jet?” She asked in return. 

Despite the setting and the noise, Jet was not inebriated; at least not so soon in the day. Whatever had made him laugh inside, or else propelled him out into the street, it lingered in his smile. 

“I had heard rumors, but I didn’t think I’d see a queen out here in the desert.” Jet said, walking closer. 

His skin had darkened, and Katara assumed he had been in Misty Palms for some time. He had not followed her, this was not intentional.

She didn’t know if that made things better or worse.

Zuko, still in the chair behind her, cleared his throat.

“I’m with a client.” Katara said haltingly. 

Jet peered past her and Katara shifted her weight to the side. He didn’t seem very interested.

“Can you settle a bet for me?” He asked as he lazily slid his gaze back to her.

“What?” 

“Are you really dating the Fire Lord’s son?”

Katara felt her mind stop. 

“We were just watching the interview and you looked so stiff.” Jet explained to fill her silence. “It just didn’t match the Katara I knew.”

“Well I’m not that person anymore.” Katara said quickly.

“Oh, I’m not so sure.” Jet said with a laugh. “The Katara I knew would absolutely be in the middle of nowhere, helping out someone everyone else has probably called a lost cause.” 

“You don’t know me.” Katara replied.

“I’d like to.”

“I am dating Zuko.” She stated quickly. “I just don’t like cameras.”

“I guess Longshot owes me some money now.” Jet said with a shrug.

“You thought…” Katara, confused, couldn’t find the rest of her question.

“Like I said, the Katara I knew has a thing for lost causes.” Jet answered.

“You weren’t-.” She cut herself off. “You’re not mad?”

Jet shook his head. 

“You’re not the only one who changed.” He said softly. “Peacetime wasn’t hospitable to old Jet.”

“Well.” Katara fumbled through her thoughts. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.” Jet cracked a larger smile and swung his arms in a stretch. “I’ll let you get back to your healing. I think you’re probably nicer to him with your bending than you were to me.”

He winked, changing the meaning of his tone, and Katara sputtered as he walked away.

Jet had guessed it was Zuko in the chair. Of course he had.

“Let’s go.” Katara muttered, turning around and shoving the chair forward.

“You sure you didn’t want to catch up some more?” Zuko muttered back.

She snorted, feeling her mood shift.

“Are you jealous?” She asked.

“Of course not.” Zuko snapped.

“Have you even been jealous before?” 

“I’m not jealous.”

Despite his claim, Zuko was peevish during their outing. He complained about the heat, the crowds, and the lack of mobility when trying to access various sites and shops. Katara tried to jostle him out of it, modeling increasingly ridiculous outfits and accessories. 

But her own nerves thinned her patience, and by lunch she was just as tired and irritated. 

When they made it back to their room, Katara darted immediately into the bedroom. Thin lines of sand had collected in her joints and ends of her clothes. She shed the fabric, but the sweat and sand clung to her like another outfit.

The shower stall was separate from the large, whirlpool bath, but it took up almost as much space. Tiled in sea green glass, Katara relished the cool ripple under her feet. Craving coolness, she stood under the spray instead of waiting for the water to heat. 

The bathroom door opened, and Katara kept from looking through the clear glass door as Zuko stepped in. 

His heat fogged the glass as he approached, making her aversion easier. 

“So Jet seemed happy to see you.” Zuko began. He was trying to sound neutral, or conversational, but it was like he had forgotten how to make that inflection with his voice. 

“Of course, I won him some money.” Katara said. 

“Did he look any different?” 

“He looked more like a guy closer to his thirties than his teens, yeah.” 

“Mmmm.” 

They were both quiet, and Katara started to thread her fingers through her hair. 

“I’m not jealous of him.” Zuko repeated. Katara didn’t reply and focused on plucking free a tangle. 

“I am jealous of his freedom.” He finished.

“What?” Katara looked up at the shower head, still unable to see Zuko through the condensation. 

“You know him. Maybe not what he’s been up to in the meantime, but you have a history. You could catch up over a coffee and it wouldn’t be this lecture of pain and trauma. 

“And just the fact that you could go out with him in the first place. But I have to be disguised just to go anywhere with you in public.” His sentences spewed out like steam from a boiling kettle, but it chilled Katara.

“History doesn’t always make things easier.” Katara said. “You can keep a lot of assumptions about people.” 

“Fine, even if it wasn’t him, wouldn’t you rather be with someone you can actually date?” Zuko asked.

“We date.” Katara protested.

“Barely. I think we-”

“We what?”

“I’ve never told you what that night was like for me. When I met the Painted Lady.”

They were quiet again and Katara let her hands fall down by her sides.

“Ever since that night, I was fascinated by Waterbenders. I spent months looking for the pretender, but only heard rumors. And even after the war ended, every time I met a Waterbender that was around the right age, I wondered. 

“By the time I met Sokka, I had given up. But then he told me about being in the war, about you being a Waterbender, and it shook everything up. I had to meet you. And when I did, I wanted you to be her so badly.” Zuko finally said. 

“Why? Love at first sight?” Katara questioned.

“Yes.” Zuko answered readily. 

“Spirits, how terrible would it have been if I wasn’t the same person?” Katara asked, slightly bitter and slightly unnerved. 

“You don’t understand, it’s because I fell in love with you at first sight. And I wanted some destiny to intervene.” Zuko said. 

“Oh.”

“And so now there’s two of you. There’s always been two Kataras. And I wonder if you and I are just meant to be a fairy tale.” Zuko said. “That’s what I’m jealous of. His freedom of being more rooted in reality.”

“I prefer the fairy tale.” Katara said, trying to sound prim but achieving something more acidic. “Plus, the ending is much better than the practical.”

“What’s that?”

“‘’And they lived happily ever after.’”

“Ah.” Zuko paused and she heard him chuckle to himself. “Got room in there?”

“I think I can manage.” Katara replied, assuredly sounding coy.

They could use the ever after to figure out the rest of their story, she was certainly in no rush.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

[zet-sway]

For the character development questions: 1, 9, 23, 24, 25, 30. If you just wanna do one per ask, then 30!

Thank you!!! This is gonna be a long post so lemme just throw down a readmore right off the bat. [questions be here]

Ok for starters I'm going to answer these as they pertain to my Thane survives AU story arc thing that I'm trying and hating myself for but also loving at the same time lol

1. What, specifically, was the catalyst for their physical attraction (if applicable) to the other character? In other words, what in particular had them like “Oh, they’re…hot…”

Ahhsjflsd great question ok ok. I strongly headcanon Thane as demisexual and also bisexual. Yes there are people who strike his fancy but he needs something more to really grab his attention and "open his eyes," so to speak. And for him, that moment is specifically when they're on their way to Rakhana to pick up his donor lungs. At this point, he hasn't agreed to the transplant, but when they arrive Shepard is just like "yeah I'm going down there to pick up those lungs whether you like it or not." He agrees to go with her - because even if he isn't going to take them, he knows better than to let them go to waste. By now he's impressed with her as a leader but this moment really tugs at his heart. She shares his determination to get the job done, for the same reasons. It's a time sensitive mission and even if they don't save his life, they'll save someone else's life. That really strikes a chord in him. And suddenly he has a big fucking crush on a human.

Shepard is just like, "yes this man is hot," on day one. At first it's just his body and the similarities he shares with humans. But the more time she spends with him, the more she comes to find his alien features very attractive as well. She's particularly fond of that dark spot under his lip.

9. What do they think about commitment? Is a long-term partnership the goal? Are they thinking about building a life with their partner, or are they focused on the present?

At first, they aren't too worried about commitment, because neither of them expects to live very long. There's a moment where they have a strong "honeymoon phase" moment after the Collector base, but once the reaper war gets going they're both hanging on for dear life. Actually I'm debating whether or not they'll elope, because Shepard knows she could be court martialed and if they're married they *might* have some speaking or visitation privileges (disclaimer - I have no idea how being court martialed works in real life).

After the war they can't imagine being apart. By then they've shared so many insane experiences that even if they were unhappy in their relationship, they'd be sad to lose someone that understands their struggles. In my AU, Shepard retires early from the Alliance and does some traveling with Thane before returning to Earth and becoming a fucking farmer. I'm probably going to write about this because it makes a lot of sense to me but requires a lot of words to explain lol

23. How comfortable are they talking about, and openly communicating during, sex?

THANK YOU for asking this. I was afraid everyone would be too nervous to ask any of the sex questions. I'm a smut writer - I'm extremely sex-positive as well. My libido may be terrible but I'll damn sure talk about it all day lol

I headcanon Thane as a deeply sensual person. Touch is his love language. Especially considering he's a terrifying neck snapping assassin, he delights in being able to give pleasure as easily as he's able to take life. I don't mean to say he "delights" in taking life here, I'm intending to highlight a contrast that his hands are capable of both extremes on the touch spectrum. He's a romantic but he's also real about it - open communication is very important to him in the bedroom. That fanfic I'm working on? It's all there lol. But basically I think Thane talks about sex with ease, it's an important part of a relationship for him, and he isn't shy about it. He'd be willing to try (nearly) anything for his partner's pleasure.

In contrast, my Shepard has a totally different sexual background. She's had few partners and most of them were limited to fooling around or she just got unlucky enough to have a guy who "fingers like he just dropped his pick in his guitar and he's trying to fish it out" - I can't take credit for that one but I don't remember where I read it lol. Sex has been lackluster for her. I wouldn't say she's shy, she's vocal and able to communicate in the bedroom, but her previous partners have just been dumb as rocks so her expectations are low. I'd say she's good at communicating what she doesn't like, and she's shit at saying what she does like.

24. What would their partner do that would really turn them on, perhaps unintentionally?

*Thane sweating loudly while watching Shep grab her own boobs* Literally any context. She's showering, or itchy, or horny, or just bored, whatever. He likes watching her do it.

Shepard will never ever ever get tired of watching him stretch. Especially if he's in any way undressed. It's his stripes - she loves the way they move when he moves. She also loves watching him talk with his hands because there's something intensely exciting about knowing what his hands can do while simultaneously watching him just ~wave them around~ while he talks. Pic related.

25. They accidentally hurt or upset their partner. What happened? How do they respond? What do they do to make their partner feel better?

Thane makes Shepard upset in my latest WIP. But it's also like, my proudest moment of this fic so I'm not going to elaborate on this. I know I was shooting to have it finished this week but it just keeps getting longer and more out of control T_T I am trying!

Also they are not together at this moment but Thane get's very upset when Shepard puts him on the transplant list. I started writing this moment actually but it's not smut or fluff so of course I'm struggling with it. He's going to sit her down and explain how a lung transplant will cost two lives for him. The life of the individual who didn't make it because they got bumped down, as well as the life of the donor - natural causes or not. But related to question #1 above, she redeems herself by seeing the mission through to the end even though he hasn't agreed to the transplant.

30. What completely petty topic (music taste, favorite food) do they find themselves completely at odds with their partner about?

This is probably the hardest question on this list HMMM

Thane's not a coffee drinker. This is kind of a cop-out answer but that's my headcanon. I oscillate between him being coffee-repulsed or coffee-ambivalent. Either way, it's too rich for him.

Shepard eventually comes to insist that he be outfitted for a proper hardsuit, and he is adamant about not getting one. "You'll be so much better protected!" "Yeah well my scales are a little more durable than your skin plus I need the mobility." Maybe, deep down inside, she just wants to see him in a hardsuit cause she thinks it would be hot >_>

[itscalledbisexualcrisis]

Scrap Metal - Chapter 3

Summary: Hiro broke off her engagement to Kuvira three years ago and left Zaofu. All she wants is to live her quiet life in Republic City, away from her haunting past. Kuvira's catching up to her, but is she going to find what she's looking for? Or is she only going to reveal the secrets Hiro kept hidden from her all these years?

Link to AO3 Here

“You have an incredible butt, you know that.” Kuvira turned, her long braid whipping around with her head. She was in the middle of her routine when she was interrupted by a pair of chocolate colored eyes behind light framed glasses. Sweat dripped from her forehead and her muscles were sore. The dance studio didn’t have the best airflow plus staying an extra hour to rehearse made the room quite warm.

Hiro leaned casually against the doorframe, a cocky smirk grazing her lips. She didn’t want to interrupt her, quietly admiring how Kuvira was twisting her body around the room. She had her hands stuffed into her dark green jacket and hair loose in waves after being held in a bun all day. A teasing smile graced her lips.

“Seriously, have I ever told you how great your butt is?” Hiro teased again. Her dress swayed around her knees as she walked up to Kuvira, who grabbed a towel from her workout bag.

“Only a few times,” Kuvira said sarcastically. She turned off the record player that was still playing the song she was rehearsing to. Hiro recognized it as the one that was going to be for her recital next week. “Sorry, did I keep you waiting again?”

“No, I actually got out early and wanted to see if you were still at rehearsal.”

“We finished around half an hour ago.” “And yet you’re still here dancing. Why am I not surprised,” Hiro chuckled. She loved watching Kuvira dance. Along with being an excellent guard, she was a talented dancer. It was something she liked doing in her spare time, and she wouldn’t think of herself as the best dancer. Iit was something that requires focus and precision, but also got her out of her over-analytical mind. And made her very flexible, Hiro thought to herself cheekily. “Come on, let’s get you a shower. You smell awful.”

“What? You don’t like it?” Before Hiro could react, Kuvira already had her arms wrapped around her and smothering kisses on to her neck. Hiro gagged and tried pushing the older woman off. “I thought you liked it when I got sweaty all over you.” Hiro blushed as Kuvira let her go, chuckling to herself. No matter how much Hiro tried to be a teasing asshole, Kuvira was always a step ahead. It irked Hiro to no end how easily Kuvira could get under her skin.

Kuvira paused before reaching down and putting the record player back on. A slow song began playing which confused Hiro. Kuvira turned to her, messy braid and all, holding out her hand.

“Dance with me.”

“Oh no. I do not dance,” Hiro refuted. She was cut off by Kuvira wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling their bodies together. Hiro tried to will away a blush from forming on her cheeks which made Kuvira smile. Her other hand came up and held Hiro's hand, entwining the fingers together. Meanwhile Hiro’s free hand came up and found purchase on Kuvira’s shoulder.

“Stop being cute and let me lead,” Kuvira purred, slowly guiding Hiro. The song played a gentle tune that they could rock back and forth too. It wasn’t anything crazy or intricate that Kuvira can do and she smiled to herself when she saw Hiro looking down at their feet or behind her to make sure they weren’t bumping into anything. “Just keep your eyes on me, darling.”

Hiro looked up at Kuvira and could feel her muscles relax upon seeing her green eyes.

For a moment the two women just admired one another, letting the rest of Zaofu melt away from them. Right now it was just the two of them in their bubble where they could drink in one another. Eventually, Hiro tucked her head down so it was buried in the crook between Kuvira’s neck and shoulder. Even as the last notes of song faded out, they continued to hold onto one another. Hiro’s hands wrapped around under Kuvira’s arms and held her back gingerly. She could feel every muscle and knot beneath her fingertips thanks to Kuvira’s fitted grey tank top. Kuvira’ arms wrapped around Hiro securely, keeping one arm around her shoulders while the other stroked her back.

“You know...I think this would be a good wedding song,” Hiro thought off-handedly. She immediately blushed harder and felt Kuvira’s back tense. “Not that I’m trying to say anything or-or...you know...I know we haven’t talked about anything like that and it’s weird to, like, assume right? Ha, I mean not that I wouldn’t want to but- you know just forget what I said!”

Kuvira caught her off with a smoldering kiss that made Hiro shut up very quickly. She moaned into the kiss as Kuvira nibbled gently on her lower lip. She blinked her eyes open when Kuvira pulled away slightly. Their breaths mixed together with how close they were.

“I couldn’t agree more. It would be a good wedding song.” Her hand found Hiro’s left hand, taking care to memorize every crook and bend of Hiro’s hand. She noticed how Kuvira focused longer on her ring finger. “One day.”

Hiro gasped lightly, searching Kuvira’s eyes. God, those eyes can keep her frozen in time. She loved finding different specks of amber mixed within the green of her eyes. It was honestly her favorite physical feature of Kuvira’s; besides her butt of course. 

“Yeah?” Hiro whispered. Kuvira answered it with a short kiss on the lips. Hiro held Kuvira even tighter, feeling a wide smile grow on her face.

“Yeah, one day.”

---

Hiro turned off the radio after finding herself humming to the familiar tune. She got up from her crouched position, lifting the face shield off to wipe sweat off her forehead. She admired her handy work for the upgraded Sato Mobile in front of her, jotting down notes in a small pad.

It wasn’t easy to transition from working on security systems to cars, but hey a job was a job in her opinion. And it was the closest Hiro came to working with technology nowadays. After updating and remodelling the security systems in Republic City, Hiro was left without a job. Zaofu was the most progressive city in the world, and in comparison most places were eons behind and didn’t need a systems analyst. So with nowhere else to go, her primary job now, when not working with President Raiko, had become working on Sato mobiles in the Future Industries factory.

She’s the first to admit her metalbending was rusty, but it was a good change in her pace to help create new parts instead of sitting behind a lab table all day.

She walked to the locker rooms to change before heading out. She was finished for the day, but just needed to go to Asami’s mansion to give her the notes about the new upgrades. Then she’d be home to take a bath and relax for her weekend.

Hiro knocked on Asami’s door and was greeted by one of the servants before heading straight to Asami’s home office. The door was already open, but she knocked lightly on the frame to make her presence known.

“Hey, I was just stopping by to drop these off.” She expected Asami to be working tirelessly like she always is. However Asami was seated at her desk, looking down at an envelope in her hands. Hiro’s entrance broke her out of her trance. She noticed Asami’s furrowed brows and could tell something was wrong. “What’s that?”

Asami stuttered, the letter slightly crumpling under her grip.

“Nothing!” she stammered. Her eyes trail back lovingly towards the letter. Her hands try to smooth it back out, careful not to crumple it again.

Things were awkward between Hiro and Asami for a while after Hiro’s confession. Sleepovers were off the table now, and it seemed like Hiro was spending more time at the factory than the office. Hiro tried her best to keep things professional and distanced from Asami. Most days she walked home from work, politely declining rides from the young engineer and retiring from a long day at work alone. Although she missed having Asami to wake up to, she swallowed any bubbling feelings and chalked it up that she was doing Asami a favor by not getting involved.

“It’s a letter...from Korra.”

Hiro’s eyes widen.

“The Avatar!? That’s great!” Hiro beamed. Upon Asami’s lack of excitement, Hiro’s smile faded. “It’s good right? You’ve been waiting for her to write back for a long time now.”

“I am, it’s just…” Asami hesitates. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard from her. I miss her.”

Asami looked back down at the letter as if it would fade away if she blinked. Hiro walked across the room and put a gentle hand on top of Asami’s shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“If Korra is anything like how you’ve told me, she’s probably just needed time, nothing personal against you. And I’m sure she’s missed you, too.” With that Hiro left, giving Asami privacy to open the letter.

She was sure that whatever was going on between Asami and Korra would be mended. It was how Hiro noticed small tears in Asami’s eyes as she looked at the letter. And how her hands held it like it was the most delicate thing in the world. And how Asami’s demeanor changed when she spoke the Avatar’s name. She knew those small details all too well. Hiro smiled to herself while walking out of the office building.

Good for Asami , she thought to herself, genuinely happy for the engineer. 

---

Asami noticed right away that Hiro was uneasy. It was hard not to notice when it seemed like Hiro never stopped moving. She was a busy woman, but even for her she was excessively working herself the past week.

“Hey.” Hiro looked up from her bustling notebook. Asami almost laughed at how her glasses were slightly lopsided and half of her hair was sticking up. “You want to get lunch today? My treat.”

“I can’t. Thank you for the offer though.”

Asami sighed and walked over, putting a hand over Hiro’s work book.

“You need to stop.” Hiro’s surprised look met Asami’s calculating gaze. “You’ve been doing a lot lately. What’s going on?”

Hiro hesitated, unsure how much she wanted to share with Asami.

After getting the letter from Korra, Asami and Hiro’s friendship returned, but this time strictly as friends. It made both women relieved that they didn’t have to dance on awkward eggshells anymore and could be friends who occasionally got lunch together. 

“Suyin wants to see me. She’s in the city for Prince Wu’s coronation,” Hiro shook her head, remembering the letter she got last week. It was very unexpected and daunting for her to receive a letter from Zaofu. Then reading the letter from Suyin about meeting up before the coronation to talk has given her a lump in her stomach all week. “I don’t even know how she found me.”

Asami looked to the side.

“That...may have been my fault,” she admitted. Hiro’s eyes widened, appalled.

“Why would you do that?” She never mentioned her past to Asami, and immediately felt defensive.

“Suyin and I were in a meeting together a few weeks ago, your name came up.” Hiro thinks back to Asami’s trip to Zaofu last month. Future Industries was looking to expand to create locations worldwide and Asami had been travelling to different Earth and Fire cities to network. “I just gave her your mail address, that’s it. I didn’t say anything else.” Hiro sighs, sulking back in her chair.

“I wish you hadn’t done that.” Asami’s face lifts in surprise to see Hiro’s face scrunched up in annoyance. This isn’t how she thought Hiro would react.

“But you’re meeting with her today.” “That doesn’t mean I want to. You shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

“I just said that you were working for Future Industries and gave an address. From what Suyin was saying, it seemed like she was happy to have some way to contact you.”

“Which is more than you should’ve done.” Hiro got up and walked around. “I have to get going.” “Hiro!”

But Hiro was already out the door and marching down the hallway. Why did Asami have to get involved? Hiro felt uneasy all week about this can of worms, going back and forth nearly everyday if she was going to show up or not. It’s not like she doesn’t want to see Suyin. She’s missed her so much over the years that it leaves an ache in her. But she could never bring herself to reach out due to a mix of pride and guilt. All morning she’s been going over what she was going to say and preparing for the slew of disappointments from her former mentor.

She sighed to herself. No. She needed to do this. She made mistakes and needed to face the consequences. Even if she was only with them for a few months, Hiro’s work contributed a lot to Kuvira’s leadership. And she turned her back on Zaofu and the city that nurtured her gifts. As ashamed as she is to admit it, she helped Kuvira conquer Ba Sing Se and set her up for the rest of her takeover. 

There was already commotion going on in the city for Prince Wu’s coronation. The press flooded the streets around city hall, ready to capture this momentous occasion. Walking down the street, Hiro saw a few uniformed men and women from the Earth Kingdom. Her hands twisted, and she tried keeping focus.

She knew Kuvira arrived yesterday with her delegation and a few members from her army. Republic City was honoring her as well at the coronation for her efforts in unifying the Earth Kingdom. It made Hiro feel uneasy to be so close to Kuvira.

She took a breath and marched forward. The quicker she did this, the quicker she could retreat back to working on the next security wall for the city or testing the newest models for Asami.

Suyin had given her clearance ahead of time so she walked right into the building, which was even more chaotic than outside. People were running around trying to get things situated before the big event and Hiro felt flustered. She looked around anxiously, trying to find Suyin.

Instead her eyes trace the crowd to find green ones already boring a hole into her. Hiro felt her breath catch and she began to sweat.  It seemed like they were the only people in the room, in their own bubble. Kuvira’s green eyes were sharp enough to kill. She’s always had a talent for sending a chill in her opponents with just her eyes. She uses it as a tactic to get what she wants and knows exactly how intimidating she could be. Hiro knows how Kuvira can be short tempered and let her anger flare up. But this was different. There was a mix of surprise with anger in her eyes. There was something else though and Hiro could only describe as...pain. The way a deep frown sat on her slightly parted lips and the way her eyebrows pinched slightly together gave it away. Even from far away sandwiched between a crowd of people, Hiro could feel the energy in the room turn cold. Kuvira was radiating with anger that Hiro felt it punch through her and left her gasping. 

“Hiro! Hiro!”

She turned away, head whipping around to see Suyin calling out to her, not that far away. By now a majority of the people had cleared out and she could clearly see the older woman walking towards her. Hiro exhaled and let her chest fall. Her head went back to where Kuvira was previously standing, but she was gone. Frantically looking around, she didn’t even realize that Kuvira had made her escape and the only people left were Suyin and Hiro.

Her mind was reeling as Suyin walked up to her, still shaken about Kuvira.

“Hiro, are you alright? Is something wrong?” She looked up at Suyin’s face and immediately the wash of shame came over her. All of the guilt she’s kept pent up and stored away felt so exposed now.

“I want you to know I’m sorry,” Hiro started right away. Suyin’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for never reaching out after all these years, I’m sorry for not trusting you. I am so so sorry for all of the pain and trouble I caused you Suyin.”

Hiro bowed respectfully to Su. She swallowed down the lump rising in her throat and had to hold back wincing when Su placed a hand on her shoulder for her to rise. She could feel the tears pricking at her eyes and willed herself not to cry.

Hiro gasped when Su wrapped her arms around her in a comforting hug. Her body was too stunned to hug back and she felt Su squeeze her tighter.

“I was so worried about you,” Su exhaled, not realizing she had been holding her breath. She felt the wash of relief flood her upon seeing her former analyst.

“You’re...not mad?” Su pulled away from her and Hiro was dumbstruck.

“I was,” she admitted. “But after seeing what Kuvira has done, it’s not surprising that she manipulated you into joining her with whatever lies she was telling you.”

Hiro didn’t want to admit that technically Kuvira never lied to her about her intentions to unite the Earth Kingdom. That it was Hiro’s own naivety and ignorance to blame. Su continued.

“Then we heard you had left and I thought you were going to come back. I was worried something happened to you when you didn’t.”

Hiro looked down in shame. She gnawed away at her bottom lip, debating if she wanted to tell Suyin everything that happened. She hadn’t shared her past with anyone, and it’s been a long road to recovery since coming to Republic City. When she looks into Suyin’s gentle eyes, she feels emotions tugging at her heart to spill everything and finally come clean.

“A lot has happened since I left Kuvira,” Hiro exhaled a shaky breath. Su nodded as if expecting that response. Suyin had watched their relationship blossom since the beginning. Kuvira was like a daughter to Suyin after taking her in when she was young. She always admired how they balanced each other. Hiro was a lighter energy; quirky and humorous. It countered Kuvira’s darker energy; serious and determined. When they made things official, the first person Kuvira told was Suyin. Of course she had her suspicions for a long time beforehand and was happy for the two. She was the one Kuvira went to when she decided to propose and helped pick out a metal to create the ring. Was she all that surprised when Hiro left one day and stole an airship to join Kuvira? No, but when she heard that her former analyst had left Kuvira, she was concerned for Hiro’s well-being. After years of not hearing from her, she knew this was her one chance to reconnect.

“We can talk about it. Can you stick around for the ceremony? We’ll have more time after.” Hiro glances up at Su wearily, before giving a soft nod. She wasn’t sure if she was going to tell Suyin everything. Hiro had decided to leave the past behind and keep it locked away as much as possible. There was no point in reopening these old wounds. But to be on good terms with her mentor again was tempting. Like it was the first step to getting the closure she needed.

---

Well that was a shit show , Hiro thinks. The coronation of Prince Wu turned dark when Kuvira announced her leadership under the Earth Empire. Hiro snorted. Empire? Dramatic, even for you, Kuvira . Hiro turns to leave, making her way out of the crowd. A lot of Earth Kingdom citizens and supporters of Kuvira were in the crowd, cheering on their leader. It honestly made Hiro uncomfortable.

A man came up to her and held his hand up to signal her to stop. She eyed him carefully in his Earth Empire uniform. 

“Excuse me, are you Hiro Zhao?”

“Yes? Can I help you?”

“I am one of the delegates from the Earth Empire. The Great Uniter is requesting you to join her for tea this afternoon.” Hiro scoffed, crossing her arms. Kuvira was asking her to tea? This had to be a joke.

“Oh yeah? And what if I say no?” Her cocky attitude was wiped away by the man’s unchanging demeanor. He wasn’t in a joking mood. And Hiro realizes there’s another man behind her in the same uniform. She eyes both of the men suspiciously before letting out an awkward laugh. “What is this a threat?” “We’ve been tasked to bring you to the Great Uniter for tea.” Which translated to Hiro as, you have no choice . She didn’t want to make a scene in front of the crowd of people so she nods hesitantly and follows them.

Tea in Kuvira’s presidential suite was not ideal. Hiro had to get back to her work, not like these men would care. She anxiously fiddled in the presidential suite waiting for Kuvira to arrive. The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow in the room. Apparently this used to be Prince Wu’s suite until Kuvira came and claimed it for herself. Hiro knows how persuasive Kuvira can be and was mentally preparing herself for the worst.

In Zaofu, Kuvira was the head of the Metal Clan’s guards. Not only as one of the strongest benders, but also clever. She knew how to get out of tricky situations and negotiate with others. She could talk her way out of anything and get people to do things they wouldn’t have otherwise. Hiro felt her palms begin to sweat. That look that Kuvira gave her earlier told her that she wasn’t here for just a simple afternoon tea. Upon thinking about the Great Uniter’s terrifying eyes, Hiro felt fear bubbling up. It seemed almost impossible that she used to love those eyes so much. Those eyes Hiro fell in love with.

Kuvira was charming, hands down. She used to sweep Hiro off her feet with just a look. But she didn’t know Kuvira anymore and Hiro hated that fact. She hated that someone who she thought she knew so well, had turned so dark and twisted. What if it was me? What if this was all my fault? She was so drowned in the past she didn’t hear the doors open. 

“Oh good, you’re already here.” She looked up and Kuvira entered and shut the doors behind her. Hiro heard a soft lock and she felt more nauseous. She sat up a little straighter on the couch. Kuvira raised a thick eyebrow at her before offering a small smile. “You don’t have to be so stiff around me.”

She didn’t move and Kuvira walked over to the drink cart. Her hair was pinned back like it usually was and the uniform kept frisp. Fit and put together, as Hiro remembered.

“I know my delegates said we’d have tea, but how about something stronger?” she suggested.

“I’m alright, thank you.”

Interesting , thought Kuvira. She walked back over with a teapot and two cups on a tray. She set it on the coffee table before pouring two cups. Hiro didn’t let her eyes leave Kuvira for a second. It hurt, to be looking at her ex-fiance, to be so close to her, but Hiro couldn’t trust herself to let her guard down. At first neither of them say anything. Kuvira picks up the hot tea cup, blowing gently.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” “Cut the crap Kuvira,” Hiro bites. “I know your games. What do you want?”

Kuvira smirked, cup inches from her lips.

“Feisty,” she grunted. “And here I thought we were going to have a civil conversation. Catch up, like old times”

Yeah Kuvira was officially crazy , Hiro thought.

“Well your men didn’t really leave room for an option.” Kuvira didn’t bat an eye. Something tells Hiro that Kuvira knew how they basically gave her no say in this meeting. Hiro crosses her arms. “Does Baatar Jr. know you’re here?”

“He’s busy.”

“Well I should really get back to work and I’m not really interested in speaking with you to ‘catch up on the old times’,” she sneered.

Kuvira’s shoulders fall and her demeanor softens and she puts down her cup.

“I’m not here to fight with you, Hiro,” Kuvira says plainly. Her voice is lighter and not as gruff or commanding. “I know things didn’t end well between us-” Hiro rolls her eyes “but I want to move past that.”

“Move past it,” Hiro repeats. She couldn’t believe what Kuvira was saying. “We were together for years. And you just want to move past that? After fucking around with your seccond in command?” Hiro didn’t mean for her voice to raise with every sentence, but she couldn’t help it. The nausea from earlier was hardening to fire in her belly.

Kuvira tensed. She knew the conversation would probably steer in this direction.

“You can think whatever you want about me. You can hate me like I know you probably do,” Kuvira snapped, her anger getting the better of her. “But I didn’t ask you to come here as my ex-girlfriend . I want to offer you a chance to rejoin the Earth Empire, no consequences for deserting your country.”

Hiro’s jaw fell. This day couldn’t get more weird. She started to laugh at how ridiculous all of this was.

“You think after everything, I’d want to join you ,” Hiro gawked. Kuvira couldn’t be serious could she?

“To me, it seems like a fair deal.”

“No.” Hiro stood up. Her voice was loud, but shaking. Her hands twitched as she tried to hold it together. She could barely stand being in the same room as Kuvira anymore, and she had to break her gaze away. “You can’t just do what you did and then come back years later asking me to be your citizen . Are you out of your mind? You’re not even going to try to explain yourself!”

Kuvira felt a tug at her heart as Hiro started pacing around the room.

“We grew apart. It’s as simple as that.” Hiro froze. “There. Is that the answer you were looking for?”

She turned back to Kuvira, tears spilling out of her eyes in frustration as Kuvira scowled. Kuvira said that as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Like it was so easy for her to ‘move past’. She had pictured this conversation with Kuvira for the longest time, what she would say and what the reasons for cheating were. But she never thought Kuvira would be this cold hearted and disconnected towards her. It hurt Hiro more than Kuvira didn’t seem to care about their relationship and how it fell apart.

Of course not, she found love. She found Baatar Jr. She didn’t need you anymore. 

“You’re unbelievable.” Hiro got up to leave, feeling more embarrassment for a lifetime in one day. She started heading towards the door.

“I don’t think you understand, darling. ” Hiro’s breath caught in her throat and she stopped. “You will join me, whether you like it or not.”

“Why!” Hiro cried out, turning around to look her old lover in the eye. “Why me! You’re almost done. Everything is falling into your lap piece by piece. You have Baatar Jr.! Hell, you have a whole fucking army out there of supporters! What more could you want?”

Hiro saw Kuvira hesitate before getting up and walking up to Hiro. Their bodies were inches from each other and Hiro could feel her heart racing. She noticed the small details that gave away Kuvira’s age. She was still stunningly beautiful as Hiro remembered. Her nose still sloped down smoothly, but her cheekbones were more defined now as well as her jawline. Eyebrows were well groomed as always, the arch accentuating her assertive nature. Even with all of her anguish and hurt, Hiro felt her heart pulling towards Kuvira. Her eyes were steady, but behind them were flames of amber peaking through.

Kuvira’s fingers brushed along the side of Hiro’s face. Hiro winced as if she had been burned, but either Kuvira didn’t notice or didn’t care. A finger came down to trace along Hiro’s jawline.

“I’ve been more than kind towards you, don’t make me regret it,” Kuvira seethed, the gentleness completely gone from her voice and her tone didn’t match her actions at all. “Whether you like it or not, you’re an Earth Kingdom citizen. That means you belong to my empire. You are my citizen to use as I see fit.”

She let go of Hiro’s face, throwing it to the side. Hiro didn’t realize her body was shaking and she could barely keep herself standing up..

“Get out of my sight.” Kuvira turned her back to Hiro and walked back to the couch. “You’ll join me eventually, whether you like it, or I have to make you.”

Hiro was quick to move to the door, hesitating with her hand on the knob. There’s so much she wanted to know and to ask. Despite all the anger she felt towards Kuvira, she also felt confused and needing answers now more than ever.

No. There was no point anymore. Kuvira wasn’t going to apologize and she definitely wasn’t going to give her the respect or decency for a real answer.

So Hiro ran out the door. And she ran just like she’s always done.

[emperorsfoot]

Finally, some much needed Entrapdak fluff. Angsty fluff. But its still fluff. 

Also, the Horde garrison in Dryl misinterpreting pretty much everything about Hordak and ‘family’ in a wholesome and -hopefully- comical way. 

Also, also, this:

...

Hordak was programmed to stand for a commanding officer whenever they entered a room. To be waiting for them, in formation and at the ready when they arrived on their flagship. In his current circumstances, as a refugee from the Fright Zone, deposed from command of the Horde, Entrapta held the higher rank. Princess of Dryl and sovereign of the territory he was currently residing in. In this scenario, Entrapta was his commanding officer. Dryl was her flagship. Hordak wanted to be standing at attention, waiting for her arrival home.

But he could not find the entrance.

Curse this labyrinth of corridors the locals dared to call a ‘castle’! There was no rhyme or reason to them. Hordak tried learning the layout. He tried marking the turns. He even tried making his own map. But it seemed like the layout changed semi-periodically. His marks inexplicably disappeared. And his map was useless by the next day. Hordak didn’t know how the mongrel got around without getting lost, but then, the mongrel was small and usually traveled through the air ducts and ventilation system. They probably did not have these problems.

All Hordak knew was that Entrapta was already home by the time Hordak finally found her.

Not in the entrance hall. He still wasn’t sure where that was anymore.

But he did find the kitchens.

Where Baker was just finishing up a pastry molded into the shape of a tiny creature with a pig-nose and bat ears. She looked up when he entered. It only took her half a glance to realize he was lost. She arranged the pastry creature on a tray held by one of Entrapta’s bots.

“That one’s going to the lab.” She told him.

Without saying anything, only offering a grunt as a ‘thank you’ Hordak left the kitchens and followed the bot.

The twisting and winding path the bot lead him on was not the same rout the mongrel lead him on the last time he was escorted to the lab. And they passed that damn painting of the flerken with the over-large eyes twice before they came to a familiar hallway. Then, finally, the lab.

The bot entered through a separate panel at floor level.

Hordak entered the passcode Entrapta gave him.

Thankfully, the door slid open without problem or incident.

Entrapta was already inside, reviewing the data from the exo-suit. Catching herself up on his condition and prosthetics.

“Oh. You made it.” She looked up at him with a smile. Happy to see him.

She crossed the room, propelling herself on her hair. Arms spread wide. But she stopped short of hugging him. They did not touch. She was mindful of his condition which often gave him muscular pain, and he was unused to initiating physical contact –it was not a thing clones did. So they never touched each other directly. Only through Entrapta’s hair.

Entrapta placed a lock of hair on his shoulder, giving the exo-suit an affectionate pat. “I missed you!”

Her smile was genuine, and infectious, and Hordak could not help but smile back. He missed her too.

He just lacked the words to tell her. They stuck in his throat. Admitting that he missed her when she went to Brightmoon for a couple of months also meant admitting that he would miss her indefinitely when he returned to Prime’s side and she remained in Dryl.

Instead he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Your clone preformed adequately in your absence. However, it is a relief having you returned.”

He placed his hand over the hair on his shoulder, intertwining his fingers between the strands. Hordak wasn’t used to physical contact, physical contact of affection least of all. He hoped he was doing it right. Entrapta did not pull her hair away immediately, and he decided to take that as a sign that he wasn’t doing it wrong.

“Dak did great!” Entrapta beamed. Wrapping her hair around his whole body, she carried Hordak over to the main monitor. “I’ve been reviewing the data from your tune-ups and it looks like your exo-suit is performing at peak efficiency. We can now start physical training.”

To get him back to a level of warrior proficiency comparable to what he was before being stranded on Etheria. Hordak would never be able to be active without his armor again. Just performing daily tasks like basic hygiene was difficult without it as a mobility aid. His muscles would ache and he would get fatigued easily. With the armor, he could function as any normal person did, but to return to Horde Prime Hordak needed to function better than a normal person. He needed to function like a warrior-trained clone of the Emperor of the Known Universe. Bred from perfection to be a living weapon and extension of his will. For that –even with the armor- Hordak needed training.

Hordak glanced around the lab.

It was tight. An enclosed space. And full of sensitive equipment neither of them wanted to get damaged, chief among them, the First Ones medical array Entrapta took from the ship in the Crimson Waste. They could not perform any kind of physical conditioning or combat drilling in the lab. Did the Crypto Castle have a gymnasium of sorts? Some place he could train. Another place to get lost trying to find.

Already holding him with her hair, Entrapta carried Hordak to the door of her lab. “Scorpia and Dak are already waiting for us in the courtyard.”

The door slid open and Hordak struggled to disentangle himself from her hair. By the Host, he was not about to allow her to carry him out into the courtyard where the remaining Horde that occupied Dryl could see him. The soldiers deployed in Dryl at the time of the portal’s opening were the only faction of the Horde here on Etheria that remained loyal to him. He was not about to shake that loyalty by appearing weak in front of them. And being carried in this tiny Princess’ magical hair definitely made him look weak.

“I am able to walk under my own power.” He assured her.

“Oh. Okay.” Entrapta let him down, feeling oddly rejected somehow.

It wasn’t like she was trying to initiate any kind of intimacy at that moment. He was just already in her hair and they had to go to the same place. It didn’t occur to her that he might feel more comfortable moving himself rather than letter her carry him. Hordak was Entrapta’s very Special Friend, not her Best Friend, that was Scorpia. But her Special Friend. She felt as strongly for him as she did for Scorpia, but… in a different way. And she wanted to hold him.

Not just with her hair –although, that was what was usually most comfortable for her- but with her arms too. The same way Scorpia hugged her when she came to rescue her from Beast Island. Both arms wrapped around, squeezing tightly, even… even bodies pressed together if that didn’t make him too uncomfortable.

But, Entrapta was also mindful of his condition. The exo-suit she made for him allowed Hordak to function the same as any average person. But underneath that armor, he was not an average person. He was frail and delicate. His skin sensitive. Not in the same ‘tactile sensitivity and overstimulation’ sort of way she was sensitive, but in the ‘a carless tap on the shoulder could cause debilitating pain’ kind of sensitive. Not counting Hordak himself, no one was more keenly aware of that than Entrapta. She knew what it was like to be sensitive and did not want to stress his boundaries.

So, why did Hordak wanting to walk on his own make her feel like he was walking away from her?

Because he still intended to go back to Horde Prime? To leave Dryl and leave her.

But that was always Hordak’s plan. Even before he started living in her Queendom. Back when they were in the Fright Zone building the portal in the first place. Nothing had changed.

So, why did she feel like everything had changed?

“It’s this way.” Entrapta pointed with her hair when she noticed Hordak was walking the wrong way to the courtyard.

Hordak suppressed a growl, letting out a hmph instead. “Nothing makes sense in this blasted place.”

Entrapta decided to let that comment go. It was her predecessor who designed the Crypto Castle, and Ensnarea made it intentionally difficult to navigate. Entrapta grew up here, she was well into her adulthood now, almost thirty, and she still sometimes needed the tracker app on her datapad to navigate her way around.

Outside the sky was gray and overcast. Dryl was prone to poor weather. Storms and lightning. An overcast day with heavy but calm cloud cover was actually a ‘nice day’ by Dryllish standards.

It took Hordak a few moments to get used to the natural light, after being in nothing but the dimness of the Crypto Castle for months. Blinking his nictitating membranes, squinting the second set of eyelids until his eyes adjusted.

The center of the courtyard was taken up by a unit of Horde soldier, being put through their drills by the Territory Captain. It had been months since She-Ra and her rebel companion kidnapped Dak –whom for all they knew at the time was Lord Hordak’s heir- and the Captain was not going to soon forget. She was determined that her forces would never allow a repeat of the occurrence. They were soldiers of the Horde, loyal to Lord Hordak, living in the territory of Lord Hordak’s chosen consort, the Princess Entrapta. They would not allow Hordak and Entrapta’s heir to be taken a second time. The Captain was almost fanatical in her training of those that were under her command.

Seeing Lord Hordak walking with his Princess, the Captain snapped to attention and offered a respectful bow. “My Lord, my Princess.” Then, snapped at her soldiers. “Attention! Salute your Lord!”

The company she was drilling performed similar motions. Snapping to attention, backs straight, shoulders tight, tails –of they had them- peaked. Then they bowed, humbling themselves for their Lord and his consort.

Hordak gave a hmph of satisfaction.

“Wow, you guys are so in sync!” Entrapta beamed at the company.

“Thank you, Princess.” Nodded the Captain. “I have been working hard with them. Rest assured that no harm will ever come to you or your… or the younger Lord Hordak again.”

“That’s great!” Entrapta smiled at the other woman. “And I’ll be upgrading your weapons before I leave for Salineas.”

Startled, Hordak glanced at her. She would be leaving again? To build more weapons for his enemies. In Salineas this time. But he thought the deal was only for Brightmoon. She was done in Brightmoon. Why was she going to another Princess’ territory so soon after she just got back? Hordak didn’t want her to go.

But in front of one of their subordinates was not the time or place to confront her about it. As sovereign Princess of Dryl and Lord of the Horde, they had to appear unified and of one mind in front of their subordinates.

Instead of asking Entrapta about it, he chose to remind her why they came out here in the first place. “Princess, you did mention that Force Captain Scorpia was awaiting us.”

“Huh? Oh! Right!” She offered a wave to the Territory Captain. “It was good seeing you Batting. I’ll get around to your equipment once I’m done with this grumpy-gus.” She pointed to Hordak with a tendril of hair.

The Territory Captain, Batting, didn’t know what to say to that, so she only saluted again. Only Lord Hordak’s lover could get away with calling his a ‘grumpy-gus’ practically to his face. Batting tried her best not to react. She tried really, really hard.

As Entrapta said, Dak was with Scropia.

They were off to the side, in a corner of the courtyard that was shadowed by the side of the mountain.

Scorpia had a bucket of what looked like many different colored calks next to her, and was handing them to Dak, whom was using them to draw on the ground.

“That looks great, Dak!” Scorpia was saying. “But, uh, what is it?”

As they drew closer, Hordak was able to peer over the backs of the crouched pair and see that the mongrel had drawn a hexagon and a pentagon with a shared side. A single line was protruding out from the hexagon, and another line that was bent in two places extended from the pentagon. Clearly, the hybrid was drawing some kind of chemical chain.

“You said I should draw something that makes me happy.” The mongrel reminded Scorpia. They labeled the line protruding from the hexagon HO, and the bent line extending from the pentagon NH2. “So, I drew serotonin.”

Hordak could not help the snort that escaped him. A very nasal, very wet sounding snort. Prime would have been mortified. But Prime wasn’t here. Scorpia instructed the creature to draw something that made them happy and they drew the chemical that –literally- caused beings to experience happiness. Hordak still did not like the mongrel, but they did like the creature’s sense of humor when it was not at his own expense.

Scorpia sucked in a breath between her teeth. “Well… I mean… that’s not wrong…” She seemed to be having trouble finding the word to explain to this child what she had meant. “Look what I drew.” She pointed to an entirely different chalk drawing. Sloppy, and childish. But still just recognizable as two figures. One rendered in red chalk with a scorpion tail, the other outlines in purple with many pink tentacles like snakes coming out of the head. The chalk figures appeared to be holding hands, and the words ‘Super Pal Duo’ was written over them in an arch. “This is the time I rescued your mom from Beast Island and she called me her Best Friend.”

Unconsciously, Hordak reached a hand out to run his fingers through Entrapta’s hair. He should have been the one to rescue her. At least, he felt he should. But Hordak did not learn that she had been sent to Beast Island until she was already rescued.

In response to his touch, strands of hair intertwined themselves with his fingers. Gently stroking and reassuring. He might feel like he had failed her somehow, but Entrapta harbored no such feelings. She was just happy he was with her.

It gave him a pang of an entirely different, but even more uncomfortable feeling when he remembered that he would be leaving her as soon as Horde Prime arrived. Leaver her, and not coming back.

But at least Entrapta would still have Scorpia as a companion. Her ‘Super Pal’ and Best Friend. Scorpia would take care of her. Besides, the mongrel would stay here too. Hordak would not take that hybrid thing back to the Velvet Glove and present it to Prime as a brother. Dak, or Hordak Second of the Name, was not a brother. He didn’t know what the creature was, really. But it was not his brother.

“That is exactly what a chain of serotonin looks like!” Entrapta nodded at the hybrid’s drawing. Satisfied with her clone’s work.

Dak offered their mother a hesitant smile. Entrapta’s approval and validation was what they craved most in this world.

“I hope you’re not too tired for our next experiment.” Entrapta continued.

Dak practically catapulted to their feet. “No. I’m ready.”

Hordak looked between the two of them, momentarily confused. “Now that you are returned, there is no need for the clone’s continued involvement.”

Except maybe for consistency of care, so that the mongrel could remain up-to-date and aware of his condition and progression. But Hordak was not about to admit that out loud. The hybrid made him uncomfortable and he did not want to admit that there might be a practical reason for continuing to allow the hybrid to be… on his maintenance team.

“Oh, Dak’s gonna be my Control for your vitals.” Entrapta explained, bouncing excitedly on her hair. “They’re not the same physical age as you, and they’re a hybrid with my own DNA, so they’re not perfectly analogous to you, but they’re the best thing I have to compare you to in terms of physiology. Dak is the closest approximation of a ‘healthy Prime clone’. So, Dak is gonna be doing exercises along side you.”

Hordak’s lips curled in a sneer of displeasure.

But he could not argue with her logic. When Entrapta first designed the clone, and yes, ‘designed’ was accurate. She went into his DNA and took out all the corrupted segments of code, filling in the gaps with her own healthy Etherian DNA. Dak was carefully crafted to be healthy. Not a perfect clone. But a perfectly healthy organism.

From her hair, Entrapta produced sterile gel, suction cups, and sensor nodes.

Using the sterile gel and suction cups, Entrapta fitted two of the sensor nodes to the sides of Hordak’s head, lifting herself up on her hair to compensate for their dramatic difference in height. She was mindful of his scar tissue which made the skin uneven. They looked worse than they were, the synthetic skin the First Ones medical tech knitted into Hordak’s real skin to close the wounds was the wrong color and stood out, a bold violet against the white of his face and the dark blue-gray of his neck. But the scratched Catra dealt him in that fight –even miraculously healed using seemingly magically advanced tech- still left the skin uneven and Entrapta had to work around them to get the suction cups to stick.

For his neck, she plugged the sensory nodes directly into the ports there. Same with the ports on his sides, she plugged the sensors directly into those too.

Dak applied their own sensors. Sticking them to the temples of their head, their neck, and their sides. Using their hair instead of their hands –which were covered in chalk and not sterile- the cobalt blue tendrils making sure they were even and secure.

With a bit of a sigh, Scorpia began packing up the colored chalks. At least she got Dak to play a little bit.

Entrapta ushered the clones back into the center of the courtyard.

The soldiers weren’t quite finished with their drills yet, but Captain Batting quickly made them clear the field. Whatever project their Lord and his consort were working on was obviously more important than making sure the garrison kept up their discipline as a single military unit. (Besides, Batting wanted to watch whatever was about to happen. She saw so little of the sovereign family interacting together. She would be lying if she didn’t admit she was curios.)

Hordak was uneasy about preforming in front of his only remaining soldiers. He was keenly aware of his physical limitations and of the fact that he was nowhere near as capable and strong a warrior as he used to be. He did not want to appear weak in front of his subordinates. Fear of betrayal and usurption aside, they were the only followers he had left. He did not want to lose the last and only Horde garrison he commanded because he so weak, even when compared to a literal child.

“We’re just gonna start with a few warm-ups to get your bodies read and establish a baseline.” Entrapta explained. “Just some simple stretches and light activity to loosen-up your muscles and get your blood flowing.”

Standing side-by-side with the mongrel, a double arms’ length apart, Hordak allowed Entrapta to guide him and the hybrid through lunges, tow-touches, jumping-jacks, and a little light running place.

Soldiers snickers behind the face shield of their helmets, or –if their heads were uncovered- hid smiles behind their hands. None of them had ever seen Lord Hordak appear so… normal before. Warming up for a drill. Like he was one of them. A soldier just like any other. And he was training with his heir. Just like a real dad (not that any of them really knew what a ‘real dad’ was supposed to be like). But it was still so cute!

All the while, Entrapta was studying their stats on her datapad, the screen split in half, one side displaying Hordak’s vitals, the other Dak’s.

She had them break for water before diving into the combat drills.

It was not all that different from the drills the garrison had just been practicing. Beginning with basic hand-to-hand kata, first going through the motions on their own, the two clones performing identical actions side-by-side. Then, after several sets, facing off and putting the combat motions into action in a mock battle against each other.

Dak was younger than Hordak. Lighter and faster on their feet. With healthy muscle tissues giving more strength to their limbs. However, Dak had barely been in one fight before, and didn’t actually know what they were doing. Hordak was older and more experienced. He had faced quick and spry opponents before and survived to learn from the experience. He was a seasoned warrior and knew how to handle himself –limitations and all- in a fight.

For the most part they were evenly matched.

Until Hordak over-extended himself. Dak did a backflip –on their hair- to evade the attack. And Hordak fell flat on his face.

The watching soldiers could not hide their amusement this time. Nothing was funnier than watching the terrifying and imposing Lord of the Horde do a face plant while trying to train his child.

Enraged, Hordak threw all manners of a polite spar aside and snarled at the mongrel. How dare they humiliate him like that!

Dak only grinned back. Flashing those razor sharp but pearly white teeth, as if goading the older clone. “Sorry,” they said, not sounding apologetic at all, “Old Man.”

There was a chorus of ‘Oo~oh’s from the spectators.

“Brat!” He growled back. In the peak of his health, Hordak could jump from a moving drop-ship, take out a small contingent of enemies, vault off a building roof, break through windows, and maneuver is close quarters combat. He was not going to allow this composite creature that hadn’t even been alive a year yet to humiliate him in a public forum!

Recollecting himself, adjusting his stance, Hordak assumed the defensive, waiting for the younger and quicker clone to come to him. Hordak didn’t have to beat the mongrel outright. He just had to let the dumb child tire themself out in order to win.

And ‘dumb child’ was right. Dak didn’t even hesitate to take the bait. Bouncing on their prehensile hair, the hybrid leapt into the air, coming down from above Hordak, hands with talons outstretched.

Hordak casually, almost lazily side stepped the clumsy and overly-showy attack. Dak would have smashed skull-first into the hard stones of the courtyard were it not for the quick reflexes of youth. They swung their hair around in front of their face, coiling it like a living blue cushion to pad their fall. Then transitioned into a sort of summersault to land on their feet.

Lowering his defensive stance, Hordak melted into a dignified parade rest. Turing one half-quarter to the side, he smirked sideways at the mongrel. Just to make sure the creature understood how insignificant it truly was to him.

The hybrid took the action as the taunt it was meant to be. Teeth bared in a growl of frustration, hair frizzing out like Entrapta’s often did when she over-excited. They ran at Hordak, attempting to slash at the older clone with their talons.

After facing off against a skilled and season opponent like Catra, young and naïve little Dak was nothing. Hordak barely had to break his rest to dodge. Only moving his feet. Arms still folded behind his back. Expression military neutral. It only took a few passes for the mongrel’s frustration to transform into outright anger.

“This is supposed to be a fight, Old Man!” They shouted.

Hordak smirked at them. “I am waiting for you to begin.”

That was the last straw that broke the back of the mongrel’s control. They did not quite have Hordak’s temper. They were not quick to anger. They could put up with Hordak’s quiet scorn and not-so-subtle distain. When it was just the two of them it was easy to stay calm. When it was just the two of them it didn’t matter. But when Mother was home… When Mother was watching them… When Hordak was making them look back in front of Mother… That was what set Dak off. Dak wanted nothing more than for Mother to love them.

Hair still frizzy, the tendrils and strands fanned outwards, haloing the mongrel in a semi-circle of cobalt-blue tentacles. Hordak would be lying if he didn’t admit it was a little intimidating.

He didn’t let any of it show on his face, however. Hordak, Lord of the Third Division, General on Horde Prime’s ruling cabinet, did not get intimidated by mongrel children.

Dak rushed him, running forward with the same speed as before. Hordak side-stepped them easily. But then the hybrid crouched down and lashed out with their hair, coiling two tentacles around one of the older clone’s ankles. It one solid jerk of the prehensile hair, Dak pulled Hordak off his feed, dropping him flat on his backside.

There was another exclamation of ‘Oo~oh!’ from the watching soldiers.

“That’s enough.” Entrapta called.

From his position on the ground, Hordak kicked up, just barely missing the mongrel’s face. If the move had connected, the metal toe-plate of his boot would have smashed into Dak’s chin.

Jumping back, the hybrid just barely managed to dodge the blow.

Hordak too the opportunity to leap back to his feet.

Dak lashed at him with their hair again. This time going high. For the face.

Raising an armored arm to block the blow, Hordak allowed the plating of his exo-suit to absorb the force of the hit, then grabbed the tendril of hair and yanked. Hard. Pulling the hybrid off balance, causing the mongrel to stumble as they winced in pain at having their hair pulled.

“Ow! Ow, ow, ow!” Dak exclaimed.

“I said that’s enough.” Entrapta repeated.

“A real opponent will do much worse than this.” Hordak informed them. How could the natives of this planet honestly believe that this soft, under-developed child-creature was his ‘heir’? They were no soldier. They weren’t even the kind of sparkling and gentle looking but surprisingly formidable kind of clumsy-fighter the Princesses of the Alliance was. The mongrel was… more like a Horde cadet. A child the Etherian Horde took in and trained. Young and stupid. But full of potential.

The mongrel only growled at him. They pulled the strand of hair, but Hordak did not let go of his hold.

“He’s right, ya know!” Someone called from the soldiers that gathered as spectators.

“Listen to your father.” Shouted another. “He knows what he’s talking about!”

Hordak bristled, uncomfortable at being called the mongrel’s ‘father’. The clones of Horde Prime had no fathers. The clones of Horde Prime had no children. The clones of Horde Prime were all brothers.

“Hey, if your hair is cut, it is like losing an arm?” Asked another. This question went unanswered.

Dak yanked their hair again, pulling harder this time. Pulling hard enough to make the taller and top heavier clone to stumble off balance. Mid-trip, another tentacle of hair lunged out. This this time. With more force. It struck Hordak in the stomach.

Hordak let go of the hair he was holding. Spitting and gasping.

“Stop!” Entrapta appeared between them. Wrapping both in her own hair, she forced the two clones apart. “As big as your ears are, you should be better at listening. Both of you.”

The watching soldiers heaved identical groans of disappointment. They were enjoying the show.

Placing herself between Dak and Hordak, she turned to the latter and held up her datapad. “Look at your blood pressure! The suit is not regulating it the way it should. And that gut-punch just now didn’t do you any favors either.” She turned the datapad back to herself and began scrolling through all the information the device was telling her. Muttering about adjustments and upgrades. About extending the exoskeleton to cover his chest and middle-mass.

As she spoke, Hordak took a breath, forcing himself to calm down. He had not risen to the killing edge. The mongrel was not a big enough threat for that. Not had they made him mad enough to push him to that edge. But Hordak was not as young as he used to be and active combat was not as easy as it once was. Now that he was no longer moving and adrenaline was no longer pumping through his veins, Hordak realized that he was… tired. His muscles under his exo-suit were already sore. His middle-mass most of all. The mongrel’s hair was very strong.

But he could not afford to appear weak in front of his soldiers.

Hordak melted his stance back into a rest. “I shall respect your concerns and end combat training for the day, Princess.”

There was a soft chorus of ‘Aww’ from the soldiers around them. One soldier wrapped her arm around another, the two women cuddling closer. Hordak might be a looming, formidable, terrifying military Lord, but he loved his consort. It was so sweet!

Their doe-eyed, adoring faces, and soft smiles made him uncomfortable. Hordak turned and walked back to the double doors of the main entrance into the Crypto Castle. Quickly realized that he would be lost the moment he got inside, and paused. Turning to look back at where Entrapta was still standing with the mongrel, he held out his arm. A gesture he understood meant he was offering to escort her inside. He hoped it did not make him seem vulnerable and afraid of going back into the castle alone –which he was.

“You can play outside some more if you want.” Entrapta informed the hybrid. “Scorpia tells me children should play. Come back to the Lab when you’re ready and we can go over your data together.”

“Yes, Mother.” Dak demurred.

She crossed the courtyard, moving on her hair, and took Hordak’s offered arm.

The crowd gave a second ‘Aww’ as the couple went inside together.

Entrapta waited until the double doors were shut behind them before remarking, “I think I’ll also add a navigation feature to the exo-suit. So you won’t get lost inside the castle. Not that I mind escorting your around. But I know you like… to go your own way...”

Hordak’s lip curled, feeling inexplicably uncomfortable. It felt almost like she wasn’t talking about his wanting independence while living in the nightmare labyrinth she called a ‘castle’ and more about… his impending departure when Prime finally came to collect him.

“I will always appreciate the things you do for me.” He informed her. Not knowing what he needed to say.

“Thanks.” Entrapta replied. “I will always appreciate you- -your friendship.” She twiddled her hair, looking off to the side to avoid eye-contact, cheeks a slightly pinker shade than was normal. “Out of everyone I’ve met on Etheria –Scorpia included- you are the one I- …work best with.”

A lump formed in Hordak’s throat and he found himself having to swallow a feeling he was unfamiliar with. “Your work is without equal.”

If he thought –even for just a moment- that Horde Prime would welcome Entrapta, Hordak would take her with him. In a heartbeat.

“Thanks.”

Entrapta looked uneasy for a moment, as if question a decision she was about to make. She raised herself up on her hair, so that their faces were on an equal level. Leaning forward slightly to close the distance between them. Her mouth parted slightly.

Hordak had no idea what her intensions were. He had never seen Entrapta behave this way before.

But whatever she was about to do, they were both distracted by shouting outside.

They both turned.

Hordak pushed the double doors open.

At first, they were both confused. Nothing seemed out of place in the courtyard. Everyone was still standing exactly where they were a minute ago when they left. Except now everyone was all tuned, staring in the same direction. Faces tilting up. Staring gape-mouthed, horror struck, and confused at the sky.

Following their gaze, Entrapta and Hordak looked up.

A strange light cut across the sky, shining brighter than the moons. A diagonal slash. The edges of which seemed to fray and peel back, like fabric torn and tattered. As if the very air itself was physically cut with a blade. A blade of light rather than steel. A rift opening.

The gaping Etherians were right to be afraid. They didn’t know what this was. They had never seen anything like it before.

Admittedly, Hordak had never seen it before either. But he knew what it was. He was expecting this.

Horde Prime got his message.

Horde Prime was coming.

[artificialqueens]

Laws of Motion / Chapter 8 (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Chapter Summary: [Katya] wanted to look around but her neck wouldn’t turn. That was when the taste of plastic reached her senses. It started at her lips, pushed her tongue down, and expanded her throat. Logic said it should block air from reaching her lungs, but it didn’t, it facilitated exactly that. It was a breathing tube.

A/N: I just rewatched season nine, so yeah.

AO3 Link

Chapter 8 - Orange.

The beeping sound was annoying. If only anybody could shut that fucking thing off.

Katya’s eyes opened slowly, trying to identify the source of her annoyance. Brightness blinded her right away, she blinked slowly in an attempt to adjust to the piercing fluorescence light. She had no idea where she was. Thing that could be easily solved, she only needed to figure out where she had spent the night. She wanted to look around but her neck wouldn’t turn. That was when the taste of plastic reached her senses. It started at her lips, pushed her tongue down, and expanded her throat. Logic said it should block air from reaching her lungs, but it didn’t, it facilitated exactly that. It was a breathing tube.

Her eyes went frantically side to side, trying to absorb as much of her surroundings as they could. The first thing she spotted was the machine next to her. A line went up and down evenly, a numeric count registered the variation. Suddenly, the number started to go higher. The annoying sound went faster. The machine was reading her pulse, the line was her heartbeat, the same heartbeat that began to lose its steadiness just then. That was where the beeping sound came from. Accompanying each ding, was an orange light, coming on and off with the rhythm of her heart. She was alive, that machine existed as a proof.

A shadow caught the corner of her eye. In a chair by the bed, curled up in a rather uncomfortable position, was Trixie. She seemed to be deep in a troublesome sleep. Her eyes twitched rapidly and her chest rose and fell erratically. Probably a nightmare was keeping her from resting properly, maybe the uncomfortable hospital chair prevented her– hospital chair. They were in a hospital, Katya could smell the chlorine, could feel the worn out sheet. It all started to make sense now.

The pain at the back of her head was probably the reason why she was there, the reason why Trixie was there. If it hadn’t been for the large tube pulsing between her teeth, Katya would have smiled. Just the thought of Trixie being there for her, waiting for her to wake up, made a warm feeling to spread across her chest. She wanted to reach and call Trixie’s attention, but soon realized her arms were not responding either. A finger tapped against the mattress, at least she could move that. Her toes wiggled a little, and the muscles of her face were also contracting and releasing under her command. She could move some parts of her body, but she didn’t want to try any other. Those attempts were enough to make her feel tired, she simply wanted to go back to sleep.

Her eyes felt extremely heavy, and she closed them ever so slowly. The brightness of the room couldn’t be completely shut out, though, it made it through her eyelids, revealing orange dots dancing in the shadows of her closed eyes. While immersed in that cancan dance, was that she missed the door being pushed open, and the girl that walked into the room.

Trixie jumped from her twisted position at the sound of high heels.

“Oh, hey,” the girl said as a greeting. “I wasn’t told anybody was in here.” Her feet were planted by the door. With enquiring eyes, she made her stare travel between the doorknob and then back at Trixie, who slowly rose to stand up. “I can come back later, if you want.”

She didn’t mean to stare, but everything about this girl screamed at Trixie to look at her. She wore a colorful paint suit, good two sizes bigger than her. Her bald head by itself was enough to call the attention of anyone that came across her. Her peculiarly drawn eyebrows, the perfectly winged eyeliner, the bright lips; Trixie didn’t know how or why but everything about this girl made it clear that she was related to Katya, without a doubt.

“No. Don’t worry. You are fine. I’m Trixie.” She ran her fingers down her hair, trying to make it presentable before extending her hand to the girl.

A look of something that could only be recognition filled her features. She smiled widely, knowingly. Her eyebrows, which were pretty much connected already, came together in a frown. “So, you are Trixie, huh?” She openly looked at Trixie up and down, analyzing her, drinking her in. “You are exactly how I imagined you to be.” Finally, she took Trixie’s hand and shook it firmly. “I’m Sasha, Katya’s cousin. We talked on the phone, that one time. Pleased to meet you.”

Trixie pulled her lips to form a smile, even the muscles around her mouth were exhausted. “Oh, right. Likewise.”

“How is she doing?”

Sasha’s eyes landed on the sleeping form, blood seemed to drain her body at once. Her skin looked, if possible, paler than before. She took the few steps separating her from the bed, held Katya’s hand in hers, and brushed her thumb against the bruised knuckles. Her pupils seemed wider as she asserted the damage, and Trixie gave her a moment to take it all in, before she answered the question. She knew how shocking it was to assimilate Katya’s state. The many tubes, bandages and gauzes were not easy to digest.

“She’s fighting,” Trixie offered softly from behind Sasha. “It’s gonna be a week tomorrow and she still hasn’t come to. The doctors say her brain is fine, they haven’t detected any internal bleeding of any kind. The lazy motherfucker just won’t wake up.”

Sasha chuckled tearfully, sadness making her voice sound even deeper than before. “We have been worried sick. I was barely able to fly in from New York. Her mom and dad are trying to arrange everything to get here, a trip all the way from Russia is hard to put together.”

Even when she knew Sasha couldn’t see her, Trixie nodded her head. “I’ve been talking to her mom and sister, I update them when I can but, honestly, nothing has really changed. There’s nothing I can do for them, or her.” Her long fingers, with chipped polish that barely covered her nails, pointed in Katya’s direction.

A mental note was done to either remove it completely or fix that nail polish. A note that was soon going to get buried in the last spot of her list of priorities.

Sasha turned to look at her, disbelief written all over her face. “Are you joking? You have been doing so much. The family back home is ready to build a statue in your honor. Not only have you been by her bedside, aren’t you leading the investigation as well?”

A twist of her lips, and a shrug of a shoulder, were Trixie’s answers. “She would have done the same for me.”

The sharp bones disappeared behind Sasha’s cheeks as she smiled widely. Her eyes once again were cast down, directed to absorb Katya in this condition; the same condition that they hoped, more than expected, wasn’t permanent. “She really is unique, isn’t she?” The admiration was evident on Sasha’s voice as she looked at her cousin. “She’s a fighter,” Sasha stated, looking back at Trixie. “You know? She gives me the will to keep on trying, to keep on thriving. You don’t know how much she’s gone through, but she always makes it through.”

With a soft smile pulling at the corner of her lips, Trixie agreed. “She’s a soldier.” Before she could elaborate on the feeling of pride invading her, her phone started ringing somewhere in the room. “Oh, I really need to get that.”

“Of course,” Sasha bowed her head, excusing her. “LA finest never sleep, huh?” There was a pause, one that allowed Trixie to go through the many tables with vases filled with flowers, trying to find the screaming phone. “By the way, when was the last time you slept?”

The generic tone stopped ringing. Trixie moved stuff around, pushing strings that held balloons with the words get well soon written on them, the phone wasn’t there either.

“I was sleeping just before you got here,” she offered matter-of-factly.

Dismissing Trixie’s words, Sasha shook her head. “You know that doesn’t count.”

“I’m fine, really.”

Sasha’s deep voice turned, if possible, even more serious. “Girl, I say this with nothing but love, but you look terrible.”

“Werk!” Trixie stopped her search to face Katya’s cousin with faked offense. “You bitch.” Even when her words could have been considered an insult, the tone of Trixie’s voice was light, provoking a chuckle from Sasha. “There you are!”

Trixie finally found her mobile, it was hidden behind a card with a drinking pun she didn’t understand, sent by Katya’s AA fellow group members. Kim’s name appeared underneath the missed calls label. Right away, a text came through, it was Kim asking if she was going to make it home that night. At least it wasn’t work. The mixture of Sasha’s concerns and the message from her roommate, actually got Trixie thinking. Maybe it was a sign, it couldn’t possibly be a coincidence that both came up at the same time.

“Hey…” She turned to Sasha, not sure how to bring up the thought she was just unraveling herself.

There was no need to, Sasha understood. “Go. Get some sleep.” She opened the stylish clutch in her hand, easily fishing out her cellphone and unlocking it. “Put your number in. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

Trixie took the device with gratitude, saving the digits under her full name and a sparkling heart. “I’ve been here every night, this idiot better not wake up the only time I’m gone.” She waved a finger towards Katya, admonishing the sleeping form of her partner. She then moved closer, placing a kiss on the covered temple, feeling the threads of a gauze against her lips. “I’m just joking. Don’t wait for me, bitch. Wake up already, I mean, if you feel like it, of course.”

Leaving Katya didn’t feel right. Trixie had been living on that chair for almost a week now, falling asleep to the even rhythm of Katya’s heartbeat, knowing that, even when unconscious, she was still there. Somewhere in the fog of her coma, Katya was alive and fighting. That was inspiration enough to make Trixie do the same. She was working nonstop to try and catch whoever did this to her. A darkness in her told Trixie that catching the bad guy would compare to nothing if Katya didn’t make it. Sentencing this person for murder wouldn’t bring Katya back, but Trixie didn’t let her thoughts wander down that road, at least not a lot. She just wanted to find this evil person and have them pay. She just needed to find them and didn’t seem to be able to. A part of the process was missing. She wanted to bounce off ideas with Katya. She wanted Katya to come up with the most ludacris scenarios to, somehow, forced her logic to pick up the right pieces and put them together.

On some nights, Trixie would tell Katya what she had discovered during the day. The car that had parked behind her building the night of the attack, and how they had a whole team of nerds trying to get a good shot of the plates. She would share with Katya’s hibernating body how stressed and frustrated she felt to hit one dead end after the other. The doctors assured Trixie that Katya could hear her, feel her in the room, so, as stupid as she felt doing so, she kept spilling pointless tales every night. Talking to a non responsive Katya was extremely heartbreaking. Not having Katya laughing hysterically to a stupid joke, or looking at her with big, expecting eyes, hanging to her every word, brought tears to Trixie’s eyes. Still, she wouldn’t stop doing it. She spent sleepless nights telling Katya about her childhood, about that time she got stung by twenty-one bees, about the evolution of her Tinder bio, about the horrible hospital coffee, about how much she missed her.

When she reached her apartment, ready to pass out for the night, she didn’t expect Kim to have a whole group of people in the living room. That was probably why she had been asking if Trixie was coming home, because she had people over. Trixie right away recognized Pearl and her stupidly beautiful face. She was surprised to see Shea there, the girl hardly had time to hang with them anymore. Trixie tried to identify the two people giving their backs to her, sitting on the couch, facing the black screen of the TV that wasn’t turned on.

Kim stood up when she saw her, placing her cup on the coffee table in the middle of the group. “Hi. You never answered my text,” Kim reminded her.

“Don’t let me ruin your gathering,” Trixie said with a wave of her hand. “I’m gonna go collapse in–”

That was when the two people turned around. Violet looked at her intensely, in the only way she knew how to, really; and Craig actually stood up from his seat, casting his eyes down guiltily.

“What’s going on here?” Trixie asked confused, almost offended. “What are you two doing here?” Her words were directed to Violet and Craig, who had no relation to the other girls in the room.

“Why don’t you come sit?” Kim walked to her, trying to get a hold of her arm, but Trixie didn’t let her.

“Kimberly, you better tell me what’s going on, right now,” she demanded.

Rolling her eyes, Violet was the one that answered. “This is an intervention, you stupid.”

The indignation was probably written all over her face as Trixie rhetorically asked, “A what?!”

Shea stood up as well, her fingers wrapped around a mug that most likely held warm tea. Her long nails scratched the porcelain, the clogs in her head were visibly turning as she tried to find the right words before she spoke. “We are worried about you, girl. You know I won’t sugarcoat it. You look terrible. When was the last time you slept?”

Even against herself, Trixie was walking towards them, standing a safe distance away from the living room. “You sound just like Sasha,” she said with a twist of her lips.

“Who?” Shea asked confused, the name didn’t ring any bells.

“Katya’s cousin. She said the same thing just an hour ago. She’s the one that sent me home.”

“She sounds like a very wise woman, then,” Shea offered.

“You would like her.” Trixie shrugged her shoulders. “She’s alright, I guess. She’s weird. How could she not? She’s related to Katya after all…”

Everybody in the room stared at Trixie, allowed her to ramble about the resemblance of the two women, and how the quirkiness surely ran in the family. Deep down, she knew she was buying time, she didn’t want to face whatever her friends had to say, even less in company of her coworker and Katya’s neighbour. As she went through everything she had told Sasha, she mentally made a list of all the topics they could possibly address, and thought of an escape plan for each.

Finally, Violet had enough. “I don’t give a fuck about Sasha. God. We need to talk about you and your obsession with this case.”

“Obsession?” Trixie asked, feeling insulted. A puff of air left her parted lips as she rolled her eyes. “Excuse me for doing my job.”

Kim sat back down, hoping the motion would invite Trixie to do the same. “You have been lying to us.” She paid no attention to Trixie’s shocked face, Kim simply continued. “You would tell me you are working late–”

“And you leave work early to go home and rest,” Violet finished for Kim, making air quotes for the second half of her sentence.

Shea stood right next to her. “Come sit with me,” she said and moved her cup closer to Trixie, offering her at least something to entertain her hands with. She took it, even if she didn’t drink it, she simply rubbed her palms against its fading warmth. “What’s going on?” Shea inquired softly, she wasn’t attacking her, not like the rest, she was worried.

“Nothing,” Trixie assured them, getting no reaction. She sighed, finally sitting down, her shoulders dropping dramatically. “Really, nothing’s going on. I just… I can’t stand seeing her like this, okay?” Her voice cracked. A single brick had fallen from the figurative wall between her and the world. The rest came rushing down. “I feel stupid, and useless, and-and powerless. I see her in that bed, just this… empty shell. That’s not Katya. I know she’s there, somewhere. But also, like, it’s not her? And I wish I could just, like, slap her awake. I can’t stand seeing her like that. So, I leave, go back to the precinct and try to connect the dots, coming up with nothing. My mind is constantly thinking about her in that bed, I can’t concentrate. So, I leave and go back to the hospital. There’s nothing I can do there, I could be of more use doing some work.” Tears ran down her cheeks as fast as words spilled from her lips. “It’s idiotic, I know, but I can’t help it.”

“We can help you,” Violet butted in. “You need to delegate. We want to solve this, too, you know? We are all willing to put in the time and effort to figure this shit out, but you just send us out for the information and want to put everything together by yourself. We care about her, too. Like, she’s one of my best friends. Sure, I’m not in love with her but… I do love her.”

The words hit something inside of her. Trixie eyed Craig with fire in her stare. She couldn’t believe she allowed her doubts and fears to be exposed like that. She had trusted Craig and he just went ahead and spilled them.

“You told them?”

He simply lifted his hands in surrender, before Violet came to his defense. “Bitch, he didn’t have to. We all see it.”

Trixie’s gaze went around the room, her friends nodded silently.

“Look, I can’t imagine how you are feeling,” Craig said in his steady voice. “But we are probably somewhat dealing with the same situation. I feel a ton of guilt. I was supposed to drive her home that night. It was my duty to see her get back safe, and I didn’t.” There was a quiver on his lips, the movement of his mustache making the tremble even more visible. “We are in this together, you are not alone.”

Pearl, who hadn’t said a single word the whole time, cleared her throat. “Like, I don’t know this Katya person, she sounds great, or whatever. It’s cool if they care about her so much.” She pushed her chin in the direction of Violet and Craig, her droopy eyes almost closing at the motion. “And I mean no disrespect, but we care about you. You are running yourself down, stretching thin over someone you barely know. I just don’t get it.”

Trixie wouldn’t expect her to, she wouldn’t expect anybody to understand what she was feeling; mostly because she was yet to understand the whole situation herself. She knew she cared about Katya a great deal. She knew she had feelings for her, stronger feelings than she had held for anybody else in her life. But she had decided to put all of that aside, she had promised herself to leave behind whatever they had shared for a moment and move on. Things hadn’t worked out that way, she was forced to add yet one more layer of complexity to their relationship.

Shea’s voice, once again, came out as a soft whisper next to her. “This isn’t just about the case, is it?” There was a hint of doubt in her tone, of disbelief.

She didn’t want to answer. Trixie couldn’t lie to her friend but didn’t really know what the truth was either. She was left sitting there, looking stupid, with her mouth slightly opened. Her lips parted in hopes that the right words would arrange in the correct order and pronounce themselves. Thing that didn’t happen. She could feel the stares of all the people crowding the small living room. Drops of sweat felt cold as they ran down her hot neck. It was all too much. Without even thinking about it, Trixie was suddenly standing up. Her eyes travelled to see the confused faces of her friends, infuriating her even more.

“You know what?” Her hand opened, fingers fanning out in front of herself. “This is none of your business. Like, thank you for caring, really, but… this is something that I have to do, okay? And if I need to spend my days at the precinct, and my nights at the hospital, so be it.”

As soon as she walked away from the carpeted living room, her heels sounded loudly against the tile floor. She had forgotten to take her shoes off when she walked in. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, what other little thing of her everyday life had she forgotten?

Before she could allow her brain to make a list of her flaws, her phone started ringing. She took it out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID. She turned around, finding Violet’s face. “It’s Jasmine.” She slid the green button and placed the phone to her ear. “Mattel.”

“Hey, Jush! We have good news!” Jasmine’s laughter sounded loud through the small speaker. “We got the plates of the car behind Katya’s building. You ain’t gonna believe who came up. No, ma’am.” She then provided the name of the owner of the car, but it didn’t ring any bells to Trixie. “You really that out of it, huh? Hold on. I’m sending you the info.”

“Thanks.” Trixie ended the call, and stared at the screen until a new bubble popped up. Her eyes grew wide opened as soon as the driver’s license loaded. “Kim, I need to borrow your car.” She looked up, just to find expecting expressions all around. “I have to talk to someone.”

Violet stood up. “We can take mine.”

“No, really, I need to do this myself. Trust me, please.”

No other word was said, and soon Trixie found herself driving through the I-10. Her blinkers were on since she didn’t have a siren, and her hand was stuck to the horn whenever a car wouldn’t move out of the way. She was there within minutes, parked in a red zone without a care, and ran inside the building. Trixie expected it to be empty, as she sped on the freeway her mind imagined the bare hallways, or even the front door locked forever. None of that happened. She made it through the poorly lit lobby, went up to the last floor, and found everything exactly the same way it had been a few weeks prior, when Katya and her met Manila Luzon for the first time.

The person she was looking for stood behind the tall desk, her hair had changed to an electric shade of orange, but it was still her.

“Detox,” Trixie said in a shout, her index finger pointed at the receptionist as she stomped the short distance. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t arrest you, right here, right now.”

“Excuse me?” Genuine confusion took over Detox’s face, before a wave of recognition filled her features. “Oh! Detective, I didn’t recognize you without the Barbie doll fantasy. Look, I already told that detective, the one with the abs of steel, that Manila had no accomplice. I don’t know why you guys keep showing up, even after the trial has been closed. You are like the third person coming back and, honestly, I’ve had it with you guys, officially.” There was annoyance in her speech, her hands’ gestures made it clear she wasn’t joking.

“That case is closed and sealed, I came for you.”

“Ooh, kinky. Please, follow me, let’s talk in a more private place.”

“No, bitch! I’m not here to talk. I’m here to arrest you.”

Detox placed both hands on her hips, squaring her shoulders up, pushing her breasts even higher and closer together. “Under what charges? I haven’t done anything.”

“Okay, then tell me this is not your car.” Trixie tried to make a show of it, pull her phone out and reveal the picture right in front of the girl’s face, but it didn’t work. The device was locked, and she had to put in the code, then enter the gallery, before finding what she was looking for.

The receptionist seemed unbothered. She inspected her nails as she twisted her lips to the side. “My car got stolen last week.”

Finally finding the image, Trixie stretched her arm to show the car parked at the back door of Katya’s building. “There are no reports of it ever been stolen.”

“Sorry ‘bout it,” Detox said with a shrug. “Things have been crazy around here, since you arrested the head of the company. Thank you very much.”

“Your car was at the scene of a crime.”

Something resembling fear struck Detox, it lasted only for a second. She was back at her compose self right away. “Can we please arrange this in an office?”

Still not very convinced, Trixie followed her. The latex suit was bright, and the neon lighting made it shine even more. Despite the situation, Trixie’s eyes were glued to the marvelous body. Everything about Detox was mesmerizing, from the perfectly round butt, to the fleshy hips that accentuated the tiny waist– The observation was paused by a loud scream. Trixie turned in the direction of the sound. She was able to peek through a small space between two almost closed curtains, and saw a naked man in all fours. A girl stood behind him, connecting her pointy boot with his crotch repeatedly.

“Over here,” Detox directed her. She sat behind the old desk and pointed to the chair across from it. “Please.”

The office was way smaller than Manila’s, and the decoration was more exotic than elegant. Trixie hadn’t known her for long, but that place screamed Detox, with the many accounting books, the different pens and the desktop computer painted with brivant colors.

“You better start talking,” Trixie demanded as she took a seat, her eyes still traveling around the small space.

A sigh escaped Detox. “Was it a murder?”

“I can’t discuss the details of the case with you.”

Detox folded her arms on top of her chest, pushing herself against the back of the chair. “Bitch, you gotta give me something. You are stepping into extremely dangerous territory here, and I don’t want you to be involved in more than you have to. You are in too deep already.”

Pressing both her palms against the wooden desk, Trixie leaned forward. “Look, I’m not here for any of the weird sexual stuff you do in this place, okay? That’s your stupid business. I just wanna know who attacked my partner.”

“Oh, shit! The hot blond one?” Detox seemed to relax in her chair, her eyes softened.

Trixie nodded her head. “She was attacked in her apartment, and your car just happened to be casually parked outside of her building that night.”

“I’m telling you, it wasn’t me.”

“Then, who?” Trixie quickly asked, she was reaching the end of her patience. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself down. She knew that was not the right approach with this girl. Katya had tried to tell her so, but Trixie was understanding it just now. “Look, she’s been unconscious for a week. They hurt her pretty bad. I just need to know if this is related to Manila’s arrest. I swear this has nothing to do with any of the other stuff that goes down in here. She… she’s my partner, Detox, my friend. And she’s been in that stupid hospital bed for days and there’s nothing I can do about it. At least help me catch whoever did this to her.”

There were a few beats of silence, Detox bit on her lower lip, processing the information. “Alright. Okay. But you have to promise me I have immunity. This hot body wouldn’t make it a day in jail.”

Trixie nodded. “I can’t make that deal myself, but if you cooperate, I promise you will remain as an anonymous source.”

That seemed to be good enough. “Kay. Well, my car technically wasn’t stolen. There’s this client, who’s been coming here forever, and the only one Madam Luzon was still taking care of herself. She came here one night and didn’t even end her session. She stormed out of the dungeon, all pissed, saying it wasn’t the same. Told me she wanted to drive around for a while and asked for my car, she never came back. Haven’t seen her or the car since then.”

“Why didn’t you report it?”

Detox shrugged one shoulder. “There was a lot of money transfered to me by PayPal that night. Figured it was some sort of payment for the car.”

Trixie shook her head, it was unbelievable how people used money to try and solve their issues just like that. “Where can I find this person?”

Long fingers hit the neon keys, as Detox kept her eyes on the screen. A card, with the intricate rose printed on the front, was taken from the holder to her right, and Detox scribbled something on the back of it. “Here, this is the billing address we have on file. You can probably find her there, or at least find more information.”

“And what’s her name?” Trixie asked taking the card, already pushing the chair back to stand up.

“Latrice, Latrice Royale.”

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Barcelona is for Lovers - Chapter 1

Welcome to my new multi-chapter fic!  Thank you for joining us.  @stupidsatsuma is my beta, and a major help in getting this thing off my computer and into the world!

General warnings for: hanky panky.  Take the ‘lovers’ part of the title seriously.

Masterlist

AO3

Summary

Three months after Rose and the Doctor are reunited and promptly ditched on a beach in Norway, they are still trying to find their feet.  Rose plans a trip to Barcelona for them to relax, reconnect, and hopefully consummate their relationship.

Rose sank into the window seat, arranging her rolling bag at her feet.  Her present view was just of the train at the next platform, but once they were out of the station she anticipated gorgeous views of the English countryside.

“Good spot.”

Rose looked up at the approving tone, smiling slightly as the Doctor settled next to her.  “Thanks.”  She’d chosen the spot specifically with him in mind; they were at the head of the traincar, with nothing in front of them but plenty of space for him to stretch his legs.  His own bag went next to hers, and he reached for her hand.  She gave it willingly, lacing their fingers together and resting the joined palms on her thigh.

She could already see the difference this impromptu trip was making in him.  He’d been here, in this universe, for almost three months now. The first couple of weeks had been good, catching up and getting him settled.  Shopping and paperwork had been interspersed with tours of London and playing with Tony, telling stories and relearning each other.  But once the dust had settled he’d grown restless, and she had to give credit where it was due – he’d tried very hard to hide it.  She knew him, though, could still recognize that longing look in his eye that he’d have when they’d stay on the TARDIS for too long a stretch.

She’d booked this trip the next day.  They’d had to wait until his passport came in, but that was yesterday and today they were on their way.

Now he was calm, looking around in interest at their fellow passengers and out the windows.  “How long’s this leg?”

“Two and a half hours,” she checked their travel documents.  “Then a forty-five minute layover, then another five on the TGV.”

“The ‘TGV’,” he scoffed, “what an original name. ‘High speed train’.  Brilliant.”  His free hand carded through his hair, ruffling the strands he’d spent twenty minutes on that morning to the point of nearly making them late.

“You’re right, ‘Underground’ is much cleverer,” she teased, grinning up at him.  “It’s almost as if someone thought it might be a good idea for the name to be descriptive.”

The Doctor’s jaw dropped, staring down at her for a moment before pursing his lips and harrumphing.  “Go ahead and mock, Rose Tyler.”

She waited, but he didn’t say anything else, just determinedly staring out the window over her head.  “No need to pout, love, we’re on holiday! You should be happy.”

His expression softened, and he beamed at her.  “I am happy, my love,” he emphasized the endearment, and Rose suspected their faces would crack any moment from so much smiling, “cause I’m with you.  Plus, we’re finally alone.”

That was true; after four years of bedtime stories from his big sister about her heroic alien ‘friend’, Tony had been in awe of meeting the Doctor in the flesh, even more so than the time they took him to meet Elmo.  Every second that her brother was awake he clamored for the Doctor and Rose’s attention, barely letting them have a moment to themselves.  The odd times that they did find themselves alone for the day, inevitably one of her parents would interrupt, hijacking them until Tony woke from his nap.

But now they had ten uninterrupted days alone.  They were on their way to Barcelona (the city not the planet), where Rose had rented a house for the week.  No parents, no brother, hopefully no alien encounters – other than what she had planned for the one next to her.  Sightseeing, sunbathing… and, she crossed her fingers, hopefully some shagging.  Or at least brilliant snogging.

The train started moving then, and she squeezed his hand in excitement.  “Here we go!”  Rose let go momentarily to shove up the armrest between them, and they cuddled together by the window as the train left the station and made its way through the city.

She was so distracted by his long, lean body pressed against hers, she almost missed a point of interest.  Using the GPS on her mobile to verify they were in the right spot, she nudged him before gesturing out the window.  “See this park here?”

“Yeah?”

“You can’t quite see it but if you follow these paths, they’ll take you around towards the construction.”

“Oh?  And what are they constructing?” he murmured in her ear, sending a rush of warmth through her veins.

“The Olympic park.”

“Oh, are they doing that here?” he asked in delight.  “I didn’t ask.”

She grinned at him in the reflection of the window.  “Yep! Next summer now.  Coming soon.”

“Think they’ll let me carry the torch?”

“They didn’t let you the first time,” she shot back, “and hopefully, the Isolus won’t get lost in this universe.”

He hummed softly.  “Well, actually, all things considered, it wouldn’t be that big a deal if it happened again.  I mean, no one died, and honestly, I think it helped that family more than it hurt.  What was their name?”

“Webber,” Rose said promptly.  “Chloe and Trish.”

He went still behind her for a moment before pressing his lips to the side of her head, hard.  “I love that you still remember that,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Her heart skipped a beat as it always did, and she took a moment to savor those words, how easily he said them, how often he said them.  “I love you too.”

They’d had breakfast before leaving the house, but shortly before they entered the Chunnel the Doctor stood, stretching.  “I could use a cuppa – you?”

Rose didn’t hesitate to sprawl out across both seats.  “Sure, ta.”  She watched him walk away, whistling, before calling him back.  “Wait!”

“What’s wrong?”  He hurried over to her.

She dug in her purse.  “One – the galley’s the other way, and two – d’you have cash?”  She glanced up to see him grinning, wallet in hand.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he said smugly, as if two days ago he hadn’t almost gotten them arrested because he’d forgotten to pay for lunch.

Rose relaxed, sinking back in her seat, unable to wipe the happiness from her face.  “Great.  Oooh, I could go a chocolate croissant though, if they’ve got any.”

He blinked down at her, looking almost offended.  “We’ll be in Paris in an hour, and you want a croissant from a train?”

“Yep!”

He shook his head, walking away muttering under his breath.

“I heard that!”

In Paris they changed trains, stopping to grab pastries and lunch to go.  Settled in their seats on the TGV, Rose immediately pulled out one of the croissants and tore it in two, offering half to the Doctor.  She had the window again, and they snuggled together to watch the French countryside fly by.

“So this is probably a ridiculous question, but have you ever been to Paris?” Rose asked, leaning back against his chest.

“Of course,” he answered as expected.  “A number of times. Once, I came with my friend Romana.  Was it before? No-  not long after she regenerated.  We were here as tourists-”

“Wait, regenerated?  She was a Time Lord?” Rose bolted upright, turning to stare at him.

The Doctor ruffled his hair, an uncertain expression on his face.  “Yes- well, Time Lady.  She traveled with me for a while in her first and second incarnations.”

“Oh,” she exhaled, mind whirling.  For some reason, she’d never pictured him travelling with anyone but a human.  “Were you… involved?”

“What, romantically?”  His concern seemed to be fading, only to be replaced with confusion.  “Ugh, no.  She is- well, was, I suppose- one of my best friends, and a good ally whenever I had to return home, but- decidedly not.”

“Okay.”  Rose shook her head, resettling herself in his arms.  “Sorry, minor jealous freakout over.  You were tourists?”

He kissed the side of her head, arms tightening around her.  “Right. Anyway, we were wandering around, taking in the sights, when we realized someone was messing with time.  Long story short, an alien of the species Jagaroth had tried to take off in his spaceship some odd 400 million years ago, the ship blew up, and fragments of his consciousness were scattered forward through the centuries.  The one in 1979 Paris was posing as a Count, trying to raise funds to build a machine that would send him back to just before the explosion to stop it.”

“Did he succeed?”

The Doctor scoffed.  “The ship exploding mixed with the amniotic fluid on the ground, creating amino acids and effectively life on Earth.”

“So it was a paradox,” Rose guessed, tilting her head back to see his chin.  “He could never succeed ‘cause if he did he wouldn’t have been splintered in the first place, and there would’ve been no humanity to help him get back to the explosion.”

“Exactly,” the Doctor confirmed after a moment.  “I must say, Rose, you follow this a lot better than you used to.”

“Experience,” she replied simply.  “I spent two years hopping from dimension to dimension.  I had to understand – it was do or die.”

He traced his finger over her face, starting with her cheek before skating over her lips, nose, and brow, feather light.  The touch still made her shiver, leaning heavier into him.  He never spoke, and eventually she turned to look out the window again, the countryside flying by.

The slight rocking of the train must have lulled her to sleep, because she jerked awake at the conductor announcing, “Gare de Narbonne!  Narbonne!”

Struggling to untangle herself from the Doctor’s grip, she sat up, blinking.  The sky was beginning to darken, and she realized it was the last stop before their own.  “Doctor?”  She gently shook him awake as the train began to move again.  “Wake up, please.”

His eyes cracked open, a loud yawn echoing in the otherwise quiet car.  “Where’re we?”

“Narbonne, we’re next.”

“How long?”

“Bout thirty minutes, I think.”

“Oh, okay.”  And his eyes drifted shut again.  Rose waited a moment, before viciously pinching his side.  “Oi!”

“Don’t fall back asleep,” she hissed, “we’ll be there before we know it.  Come on, let’s clean this stuff up.”

He grumbled, still yawning, but did as she asked.  By the time all the trash had been discarded and they’d each made a trip to the loo, they were pulling into the station.

“Gare de Perpignan!  Perpignan!”

The train stopped and they stood, the Doctor snatching Rose’s bag before she could.  “Lead the way,” he nudged, and she did, stepping off the train and quickly locating the car rental booth.

“Erm, bonjour- ah, bonsoir, je m’appelle Rose Tyler, j’ai une reservation?”

Getting the car was relatively painless, despite being able to sense the Doctor’s desire to jump in and take over.  Thankfully he was wise enough to let her handle it, merely following her to the rental car where she froze, keys in hand.

It was exactly what she’d ordered: a midnight blue, sparking convertible in a shade as close to the TARDIS as she could get.  But looking at the vehicle reminded her of a key difference between England and the Continent – the steering wheel was on the other side.

“D’you want me to drive?” the Doctor offered, already popping the trunk and loading the bags.

“No, I can do it, I just need you to navigate for me,” Rose said, biting her lip.  How hard could it be?

“Alrighty, then.”  And he opened the right-side door with a flourish, waiting expectantly.

Smiling, she shook her head, walking around to the left and opening the door for herself.  “Thanks, love.”

“Right.”  He yawned again, ruffling his hair sheepishly as he slid in.  “This is nice.”

“I wanted to feel the wind in my hair,” Rose explained, carefully adjusting her mirrors and seat before starting the car.  “Okay, we’ve got about thirty kilometers to go tonight so we cross the border into Spain.  Then we can drive along the coast in the daylight.”

“Molto bene.”

She eased the car out of the space, watching carefully as she got out onto the street.  Fortunately traffic was light, just enough cars on the road to remind her which side to be on.  She deliberately drove out of her way for a few minutes as practice, before making her way over to the divided highway, holding her breath until she’d smoothly merged with traffic.  So long as she kept going straight she wasn’t too worried, and was soon comfortable enough to steal glances every so often at the farmland on the side of the highway.

“So, you haven’t said what all you’ve got planned for this week,” the Doctor mentioned, startling her; he’d been quiet for so long, she’d thought he’d fallen asleep again.

“Oh, the usual,” she said flippantly, “sun, sand, se- spending time alone with you.”  Rose bit her lip hoping he couldn’t see her blush, and more importantly, hadn’t caught her slip of the tongue.  She wanted to discuss their physical relationship with him, but hurtling down a motorway at 100 kph didn’t seem like the best time.

“That it?”  His voice was warm, and to her surprise, he settled his palm on her thigh, thumb stroking at the sensitive skin.

“Sightseeing!  We’re not too far from Barcelona, so I figured we could drive in a couple days, do the tourist thing.”  She swallowed, warmth pooling in her stomach.  His gaze was heavy on her, but not uncomfortable – more of a cozy duvet during the winter type of weight, rather than oppressive.  Could he, possibly, already be on the same page?

“Yeah, all right,” he was nodded approvingly when she snuck a peek at him, “also, love the alliteration.”

“Just for you, babe.”  Her laugh was off, too high-pitched and breathless, but it was genuine, and he giggled along.

They rode in silence after that, Rose focusing as the traffic picked up around her, the Doctor a steady but still presence next to her but for the occasional direction.  They made it to the hotel soon enough, and once again he rushed to carry her bag for her, dutifully trailing behind as she checked them in.

Despite the fact they’d been sleeping in the same bed since his arrival, anticipation sparked between them as they reached the room.  For the first time, there would be no risk of interruption – no Tony to come bounding in, no Jackie to pester them down to breakfast.

Rose threw open the door, nearly dancing inside – until she stopped dead, the Doctor crashing into her back in his own haste.

“Oi!  Why’d you stop- oh.”  His chest was warm against her back as they stood there, staring at the twin beds.  A beautiful antique nightstand stood between the beds, and Rose had a nasty feeling that it would be quite heavy, if not impossible, to move.

“They were supposed to give us a king,” she moaned, as the two bags dropped to the ground behind her.  “Shit.  And the girl said we were the last to check in, too.”

“We can make do,” the Doctor said bravely.  “It’s one night.”

“Yeah.”  Rose supposed it was for the best, as she lifted her weekender onto the bed closer to the window.  The anticipation and impatience was making her ache, and if they slept curled up together she couldn’t promise to control herself, and she didn’t want that.  She wanted to have a conversation about it first, a likely excruciating and humiliating conversation, and make sure they were on the same page.

Plus, she didn’t want anyone to overhear them – she suspected they would be loud.

She couldn’t wait.

[hanculs-blog]

♔‘ﾟ‣ { TASK 001 } — ❝ haneul’s profile ❞

                                 I’m not too gone to be                                                           healed, am I ?                                        I’m not                                                       too gone                                                                             am i ?

tw: mention of alcohol, death & murder.

GENERAL INFO

full name: park haneul nicknames: hani, han, oney gender & pronouns: cis-female, she/her sexual & romantic orientation: heterosexual and heteroromantic age & dob: 22, 1996/07/15 birthplace: daegu parent & siblings: park jongin (father), kang gahyeon (mother) & park hanjun, (older brother, deceased) pets: dal (mixed samoyed dog) & bam (stray cat) astrological sign: cancer dominant hand: left handwriting style: a bit unreadable, almost kind of cursive, not terrible. languages known: native korean, medium english & basic japanese. religion: agnostic atheist current living arrangements: her brother’s apartment. it has one room, one bathroom, a small kitchen, a nice living room and a small balcony; it still looks almost the same way he left it. not on the best area but could be worse. certainty an improvement from her old shared apartment. occupation: dancer, occasional bartender, influencer

PHYSICAL

picture reference: click blood type: O nationality: korean skin tone: light birthmarks & scars: a very distinguishing beauty spot on her nose, probably some small scars here and there. height: 1.66 m build: slender, athletic, kind of petite. hair color: naturally medium brown, sometimes tinted black or light brown. hair length: usually long. eye color: dark brown, sometimes wears colored lenses. diet: very diverse, sometimes a bit meat-heavy, she really enjoys food and actually doesn’t restrict her eating that much. exercise & level of fitness: compensates her lack of a strict diet with exercise. visits regularly the gym and, of course, as a dancer, goes to long practice routines that could count as a full work out. how’s their posture?: quite a good posture due to her dancing background, mostly straight and proper but not stuck up, a bit relaxed. may slouch veeery occasionally. typical style of dress: red and black are her go-to colors. there’s almost always some leather, her jacket, or her skirt, or her shoes. sexy with a bit of glam. tends to show a bit of skin but not too much actually. skinny jeans and a crop-top, a high waist skirt with a silk blouse. and, although not dress-related, really enjoys glittery eye make-up and red lips. body modifications: multiple ear piercings (one on the left lobe and two left helixes, three on the right lobe and one right helix) and some small tattoos (yet to be described).

MANNERISMS

how does your muse walk?: like the dancer she is, there’s a natural cadence in the way she moves and a lot of confidence. how does your muse talk?: kind of smooth and mellowly but not overtly sweet, controlled one could say. the speed varies with her emotions or intentions a lot. it can become harsh and cutting very easily though. hat accent does your muse talk with?: usually in the typical daegu satoori with lots of slang very much associated to the peripheral poor neighborhoods, basically you can tell where she’s from in one or two sentences. but she can switch to a more neutral tone since she sometimes works directly with the public. how would you describe the tone of their voice? are they loud or quiet?: it’s actually kinda deep for a girl, at least definitely not high pitched. not loud but neither quiet, she basically can get herself listen. what does their laugh sound like?: she actually has a silent laughter, almost no sound coming out of her mouth, but if she’s laughing very very heavily then she can be quite loud. how does your muse typically smell?: there’s almost no occasion she won’t use at least a bit of perfume before going out, but she doesn’t go for strong ones and prefers light refreshing scents. what kind of air do they carry?: like she already owns your soul. do they have any catchphrases?: probably some curses. what are their nervous ticks?: movement, that being her fingers tapping the table or playing with her hair, pacing, swinging her feet. basically it’s difficult for her to get completely still.

PSYCHOLOGY

what makes your muse happiest?: doing what she loves, enjoying herself with engaging people, being with her brother, spending time with @myvngok​, exercising, causing mayhem in the streets. what upsets them the most?: judgmental people mostly, feeling caged, being out of control, people badmouthing those she cares about. does your muse have any quirks?: she flirts as she speaks. what are their hobbies? how frequent do they do them?: dancing, clubbing/partying, going out with people, drinking, cooking (not the best cook but she has fun), watching horror or crappy comedic movies. she does them when she pleases. do they have any guilty pleasures?: perhaps kpop, she’s very into it, even obscure survival & variety shows. but she doesn’t consider it an actually guilty pleasure. is your muse an extrovert or an introvert? neither?: socially extroverted, emotionally introverted. do they have high or low self-esteem? what about confidence?: at first instance, she has very high confidence but more than anything it’s an attitude. she tells herself she’s great and is sure of everything hoping it’d come true. are they easily stressed and how do they normally respond to it?: usually not, she’s very laid-back and chill for most of the time. but certain very specific situations, when they get out of her control, can stress her very much and completely freak her out. she doesn’t externalize that panic, though, instead goes deep into her thoughts, where for sure everything will mess her up even more and produce a big emotional outburst. what is your muses worst fear?: loneliness & lack of love. what is your muses biggest dream?: safety, she want’s to feel safe and loved and cherished and at ease with herself and the world. is your muse a morning person or a night dragon?: for sure a night dragon, almost the majority of her daily activities occur at night or late in the day. how intelligent is your muse? do they acknowledge it?: average? she’s not the brightest bulb out there but for sure she’s neither stupid. she doesn’t have the greatest academic knowledge but is well versed in practical stuff and street-wits. describe their sense of humor: ironic, witty, deadpan snarker.

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES

are they currently in any sexual or romantic relationships?: yes to the first, no to the second. what is their experience with relationships?: complicated, troubled, turbulent. how does your muse view the idea of friends with benefits? have they ever had one?: amazing concept, and yes she has had more than one. how important is sex to your muse?: very important. what are their biggest turn on and turn offs?: that would require a whole questionnaire itself. let’s just say there are plenty things she’ll go with and that she’s quite experimental, but if we had to point some, that be: praising, dirty-talk & teasing. she also has some deal-breakers, for example, she’s not into daddy-kinks or derogatory language. does your muse find it easy to make friends?: it’s easy for her to make friends since she has a very entrancing personality, but usually “friends” are simply people she enjoys spending some time together and that’s all. close friends, those she confides with, are more difficult to make. how important is friendship to them?: good/close friends are very important but she may not show it that much. quantity or quality of friends?: quality for sure. how important is family?: more important that what it may seem at first sight. hanjun was literally the most important person in her life. and she does care a lot about her mother, even though she gets on her nerves constantly and usually doesn’t shows it. are they close to their family?: see above for her relationship with her brother and her mother, hanjun was the closest person in haneul’s life up until his death. as for her father, he left them when she was six and there’s been no contact between them. she has little memory of the man besides him cursing at her mother.

FAVORITES

activity: sex dancing. animal: cat. beverage: alcohol, coffee. color: red & black. designer: @arxum​ ? she’s really not much into designer clothes since she can’t barely afford them. food: pork meat. flower: rose. gem: red quartz, black opal & bloodstone. holiday: doesn’t care, just give her free days. mode of transportation: her motorcycle, there’s also her brother’s car but she never uses it. quote: keep going forward. scenery: the city at night, silent, with its lights vibrating, far away echoes of music and a clear sky. scent: coffee, fire, wood, cleanness & vanille. weather: stormy or cloudy.

ATTITUDES

greatest dream: get an actual real serious job as a dancer, establish herself as a person, find her path, have a family one day. greatest fear: loneliness & failure. most at ease when: dancing or wandering the street with nice company. least as ease when: she’s alone with her thoughts, in a hospital or out of control of a situation. worst possible thing that could happen: any other person she cares dying or getting very ill probably, or getting an injury that would affect her mobility drastically. biggest achievement: being still alive and kicking and functional? i mean i guess we could discuss the functional part but, still, that’s an achievement if you consider the circumstances. biggest regret: she tends to not have any regrets because she can’t change the past or undo what’s been done (but one of the things that haunts her the most is not having been able to do some stuff with her brother...). most embarrassing moment: embarrassment is for babies. biggest secret: she desperately wants to be loved and also is a bit (lot) scared about finding who killed her brother and having to face that truth. top priorities: finding her brother’s murderer? :D

[chuckling-chemist]

A Pleasant Meet

((Don’t mind me​, only reposting this piece since I made some adjustments to it before I put it on Writscrib, and with Writscrib unfortunately ending well...guess this is my only platform again. As such, the original version of this has been deleted since I honestly couldn’t tell you where the edits were made and it’s a solid ~6000 words. This was originally written about 2 years ago, so if it feels like it, that’s why. Also I do apologise that the read more doesn't work on mobile app. I added the long post tag but that's all I can do))

Pallia expected a lot of things today. It was the last day of the summer festivities - the three perigees that made the weather feel unbearable even at the dead of night - so there was sure to be more drinking and partying than she particularly enjoyed. She anticipated plenty of injuries and a few fights, but not many trolls would stop by unless something life threatening happened. If that was the case, it would likely be a low or midblood stopping in, barely putting pressure on whatever wound they had or with a friend carrying them in a panic. She was used to most of them being perturbed by her habits and reputation of outlaws coming in for a spin. For all she knew, they thought she was a former outlaw herself. Which she supposed she was.

Or it would be one of the outlaws or pirates to run in, as they were far more wont to do, a knife or a broken sword piece shoved somewhere where it shouldn't be. All the pirates already knew each other and were likely aware by this point that her hive was a neutral zone. Nor were they put off by all the rumors of her being a necrophiliac or witch doctor that inevitably float around when you use dead bodies for experimentation. Word travels fast. She wasn't even sure how so many of them found out about her.

So she wasn't terribly surprised when she got two sharp knocks on her lab door and Aisral entered, thankfully making plenty of noise so Pallia was actually aware of her presence. Nor was she surprised when Aisral said Mayola, a fuchsiablood, had been in the front room for a full five minutes and had been trying to get Pallia's attention before starting to pester Aisral on Trollian. And with Aisral in the middle of making a unitard that doubled as a cloaking device, she was not happy with the interruption. So with a quick apology to Aisral, she swiftly took off her prescription goggles and replaced them with half-moon glasses to run out and see what Mayola needed. That was where the unexpected thing happened.

Mayola herself seemed fine. She was currently leaning on the wall, arms crossed and fins flared out. A scowl was evident on her face. On the table in the front room laid some sort of seadweller body, dressed in a black overcoat, though they couldn't have been comfortable. She had to figure at least a foot of them hung off the table. "Couldn' take more time, could ya short stuff?" Mayola asked irritably.

"Sorry! I had an accident recently and --"

"Yeah, yeah. Don' care," Mayola said, waving a hand dismissively. As she spoke, her fins seemed to be retracting. "Didn' come for me, anyhow." She pointed to the table.

"FLARP? Again?" Pallia asked sharply. It wouldn't be after the first time after all and as much as she liked Mayola, the troll had a tendency to forget her own strength.

"Nah, found 'em at the festival. Nearly stepped on the fucker had it not been for Eeks!" Mayola said.

Pallia nodded, all other thoughts gone, and crouched next to the body, doing a quick observation. They - no, they seemed to be he - was a gaunt violetblood swimming in a black overcoat with violet trim. Underneath the overcoat was a full suit with a violet bow tie and a rather filled looking leather messenger bag crossed his torso. His fins were large and drooping, the tops even curling downwards. Dark purple circles surrounded his eyes. Pallia gingerly took an arm that was hanging off the side of the table, rolled up the sleeve just enough to reveal a bony wrist and checked for a pulse.

"So?" Mayola asked.

"He's alive," Pallia said. "Do you know him? I can't imagine there's many seadwellers in this area."

"There ain't. Me and the princess. Oh, and Niehea? No dudes though." She shrugged. "And 's the first time I've seen 'em. Doubt the fucker's from here, else he mighta not been in such a heavyass coat." Mayola pushed herself off the wall and headed towards the door.

Pallia frowned. "Heading out?"

"'Course. Gotta reputation to hold up for bein' an asshole...and I'm needed for some fineass drinkin'," she said. With a final wave, she added, "I'm out, short stuff."

And so that left Pallia with the mystery violetblood. If she had to take a guess, he was probably dehydrated. She could hook him up to an IV, but she would have to move him to one of the side rooms, and while he couldn't be heavy, she was still only five feet tall while he was...well, taller. Nor did she want to move the IV to a room where strangers could see it. Witch doctors no one wanted to mess with, but real scientists might draw unwanted attention of a purple variety. She could theoretically feed water by pouring it, but when the patient is passed out, that could be dangerous. So logically, the easiest step at this moment was to wake him up and just grab a bottled water from the mini fridge underneath her counter space. Something that thankfully, she could easily do without arousing suspicion.

Without another thought, Pallia slowly ran a finger down the gills along his neck.

The result was immediate. The violetblood's eyes shot open and she darted towards the fridge to grab a water. She had learned from more than a few times of waking up pirates that they never took kindly to being woken up, even if it was from fainting. He didn't. He didn't even move. Had it not been for the fact Pallia had just woken him up, she probably would've assumed he wasn't awake.

Finally, as she was heading back to the table to give him the water, he slowly sat and said something Pallia couldn't decipher.

"So…how're you feeling?" Pallia asked.

"You must not have heard me. I said I feel terrible," the violetblood said, turning his head towards her. His voice sounded posh, something she didn't surprise her, but far from unfriendly, at least in her mind. Then again, after Mayola's faux-lowblood accent, anything sounded posh yet outwardly friendly. "Sorry, I must not have adjusted to how sound is on air."

She shook her head. "No, I'm sure you were fine." She crouched back next to him and handed the water. "This should help make you feel better."

"Water? This is not because I am a seadweller, is it?" He shook his head. "No, no. That sounds bad. I merely wish to assure you are not just concerned that I should return to the ocean immediately."

"Hm?" Pallia cocked her head to the side, processing what he said. "Oh no! You're dehydrated."

The violetblood blinked several times. "No, no. I am feeling perfectly alright. It was probably just another fainting spell...possibly an anxiety attack." He stopped to hold up a shaky hand to his face and gently returned it to his side. "I just need sleep, I assure you."

"Your fins are drooping and you're wearing, like four layers on a hot night. You need water," Pallia said.

"Excuse me?"

She sighed. "You don't know? Have you ever been out of the water?"

"I just fail to see how a landdweller would know such a thing when you do not even have fins. Er...no offense. Was that offensive?" The seadweller was pointedly avoiding eye contact as he spoke, seeming to find more interest in his fingers.

"You're not the first seadweller that's had this problem."

"Fainting spells?"

"Dehydration. It's pretty common with seadwellers coming up to the area, expecting it to be cold when it's really hot and humid," she said matter-of-factly.

"...Oh."

Pallia reached up to touch one of the fins again, just to push the curl up. The violetblood let out a sharp gasp and his head suddenly turned towards her. A hand went to push her own away, but she had already pulled away, face flushed.

"Don't!" he exclaimed, eyes wide and a faint tint of violet on his face. "Oh dear. Apologies, I did not mean to snap. That is just…" his voice trailed off and he looked back away from her to his fingers instead, "sensitive, so to speak. For most, anyway. And I am not above the natural law of seadwellers to be an exception to that rule."

"It is? I didn't know that," Pallia said.

"You did not? I would have suspected you did, considering what you were talking about earlier," the violetblood said.

"Nope! No mentions in any readings I've done, any seadwellers I need to wake up I touch their gills not their fins, and the only seadweller I really ever have to service normally isn't in too much harm physically. She's the one who brought you here," Pallia said.

The violetblood was silent for a while, before finally looking back up at her quizzically. "You did what to my gills?"

"Well, if you ever need to wake a seadweller up, all you need to do is touch their gills. Natural instinct, I presume, even though you have two functioning respiration systems, that since they likely started in the water they want to preserve their breathing. Landdwellers have a similar function if you try to suffocate them in their sleep. Seadwellers might have that too, but I'd rather not wake someone up by actually trying to suffocate them when I can just tap on their gills and get the exact same reaction," Pallia said brightly. "Though, normally I have to do more than what I did to you. I barely touched them and your ocu...uh, glance​...wait...eyes opened!"

The violetblood absently started touching his gills. "They...they do?" he asked.

"Yeah. Did they never teach you this stuff in schoolfeeding?"

"Ah...no. I suppose it just was not extremely important at the time," he admitted. "How do you know all of this?"

"Reading!" Pallia blurted out. It wasn't a total lie, as some of it she certainly had learned by reading the documents left in the building before it was her hive. The gross anatomy...not so much. "Lot of it."

"That is it? Just reading? Odd, one would have suspected we would have come across similar works," he said. He stood up and pulled the collar on his overcoat up, successfully hiding his gills and even his extravagant fins, to some degree at least, from the side. It matched the rest of his body: looking slightly too long and out of proportion with the rest of the coat. At least I know why he's wearing that thing.

"You should probably take that off," Pallia said. "It's crazy hot out there and daylight'll break soon. You're already dehydrated."

"I...are you sure? No one will attempt to rob me of any personal belongings I may have, or attack me simply because of my caste? Or something far worse. Not to mention I do not even know where to stay and...oh dear. What if--"

"You'll be fine," Pallia interrupted. "If anyone actually tries to rob you tell them you came from the clinic and they'll back off. Trust me. And there's a temporary hivestem you can stay at. It's in the richest part of the city, right up in the front where there's normally traffic. Tall building. Don't think you can miss it. It's a pretty nice place. And drink the water. Seriously, you'll feel better." She gave him the warmest smile she could muster for a stranger.

"And if I do not find it?" he asked worriedly.

Pallia paused for a while. She couldn't let him stay here, not right now at least. Then again...it would only be fair. She'd extend the offer to an innocuous lowblood to stay at her hive for a night, at least in the main room, so she should extend it out to a highblood or seadweller. But at the same time, she didn't have any actual sopor slime nor recuperacoon for him to rest in and if he did rest here in his condition, he wouldn't get any real sleep. She saw how irritable Aisral was when she initially stopped sleeping in it before levelling out. So the smarter decision would be to send him to the temporary hivestem, at least tonight. But if he couldn't find it, he may as well have some sort of contact for the place. "Do you have Trollian?" she asked.

"Erm, yes," the violetblood said cautiously. "Why?"

"I was just going to give you my account name, and if you had any problems you could message me," she said. "You don't have to give me yours. I don't really know any violetbloods personally who'd be messaging me, anyway."

He took a small sip of water before speaking. "Are you certain?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

"I simply wish to be certain, is all," he said. "You do not have to do this if you do not want to."

She shrugged and said, "It's only fair. I'd do it to anyone else." She ripped off a piece of paper that said calculatingAlchemist and handed it to the violetblood, who quickly shoved the paper into his pocket. "There you go. In case you have any trouble!" She glanced outside past the glass doors. "You should probably head out. It's getting late."

His head jerked away from her and he looked into a nearby window to see that dawn was just starting to break. "Yes, so it is. Thank you," he said with a small smile.

"No problem!" Pallia exclaimed. "And best of luck!"

***

Sure enough, Dontoc found the hotel - at least that's all he could fathom what she meant by temporary hivestem with his knowledge of landdweller slang limited to books - with almost no problem. It was an impossibly tall building with a smaller wooden edifice jutting out of the left side. Even without a sign, it had to be the hotel. It was the only building in the rich section, if not the entire city, that was nearly this tall. An impressive feat too, as he remembered several of the buildings appeared to have extra stories stacked on as an after thought. But here, it looked as if a strong wind would topple the whole building, yet it didn't so much as budge.

A hand absently went into his pocket as he walked and found the slip of paper. He felt bad for having her Trollian handle without using it, even though the more reasonable side of him gently reminded him he didn't have to use it if he didn't need to. Was she expecting a message? Even one to let her know he found it and got there safely? After all, if she said to message him if there was a problem, she would want to know if everything went smoothly. But then again, would she really care that much about some stranger dropped onto a table? He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, attempting to force the thoughts out. He would worry about that once he got past the necessary social interaction.

He walked up to the desk and gave a quiet cough. The receptionist, a male cobaltblooded troll with small horns, gave him a wide smile.

"Why hello, hello! What can I do for you?" he asked.

Dontoc froze. He looked down onto the countertop and took a long drink of water. It should buy him enough time to save face.

Finally, he choked out, "Ah...yes. I am...um...here for a room."

The troll gave him a quick onceover before nodding. "Really now? Don't get a lotta seadwellers comin' in. Where ya from?"

Dontoc opened his mouth and quickly closed it a few times, expecting a comment to looking like a useless fish that never came. He had to fight against the near automatic response of actually saying where he came from, which involved far too much explanation and socialization to a receptionist. It then dawned on him it had been at least a good seven seconds before he answered, and maybe just any answer would be good. "I uh...came from the tealblood's hive outside of this city," he said.

"The clinic?" the blueblood asked suspiciously. "You seem a little too clean cut to come from there."

"Cl...clean cut?"

"Well yeah," he said nonchalantly as he started to fill out some paperwork, "plenty of unsavories come outta there. Girl in there's weird, too. Don't trust her myself."

"Well I can assure you I am not an 'unsavory'. I just woke up there after a bit of a fall," Dontoc said.

"Ah! That's how. She probably thoughtcha were a dead body. She takes them in, ya know. Who knows what she does with 'em. Some talk about how she uses them for occult magicks or something. Did you know that's a common thing here? Fuckin' kooks." He flipped the paper over and pointed at the line at the bottom. Dontoc could only shift around slightly, thinking about the unusual book he found. "But you're alive and she don't want that so she letcha go. I'm sure. Anywho, here. Just sign at the bottom. Considering everything, I'll just give ya the room. Just make sure to tell your seadwellin' friends, alright? You're on the first floor, third door on the right. Room 133."

Dontoc nodded. Well now I have to talk to her, he thought as he signed the line. He didn't bother telling the receptionist he didn't really have any friends, let alone seadweller ones. He quietly muttered a small "thank you" as the receptionist handed him the keycard and pointed him in the right direction, and Dontoc found the room with little effort.

It was a standard room, as far as hotels go. The most impressive thing was a small bookshelf with a couple nonfiction books inside, and a laptop resting on the desk. He sat down at the desk, pulled out the slip of paper in his pocket and took another drink of water. Hopefully she was still awake, or else he might end up with another sleepless night.

He made a Trollian account back when he was still a kid in the vain hope that one of the other kids being schoolfed would at least talk to him outside of their classes. It never happened. Since then it had largely sat there, unused. Even though getting back on the website was like picking up a book even after not having read in sweeps, it still felt foreign to get on and see the red chatbox. With a quick search for "calculatingAlchemist", he managed to find her account and cautiously typed out "Hello?"

He'd never had a response so fast. Oh no, does this mean she was waiting for a response this whole time? And here I was not planning on messaging her until I needed some rather probing questions answered. Oh dear. His mouse hovered over the abscond button and he suddenly felt far too warm for the room.

No. You can do this. Deep breaths. You have already talked to her once. Perhaps too harshly, but you did. And you were hardly in a right state of mind either, but how much harder could online be? In fact, it should be easier.

algorithmicCollegiate [AC] began trolling calculatingAlchemist [CA]

AC: Hello?

CA: hey! CA: you've got to be the violetblood from earlier! CA: iss everything 0K?

Zero K? Wait no, "okay". It must be a quirk. Alongside the s. She did have a slight hiss accent, did she not?

AC: Yes, Σvery+hing Is "0K" AC: I Mαde It +o +he Ho+el Sαfely AC: Or +emporαry Hives+em As You Cαlled I+

CA: oh, awessome! :)~ CA: i antissipated a problem when i ssaw a messssage.

AC: No, No Problems +o βe Found AC: I Do Hαve Some Inquiries, However AC: +he Recep+ionis+ Seemed +o βelieve You Abuc+ed Me?

CA: he did? :o CA: wait no i think i know why. CA: what elsse did he ssay?

AC: You Were A Performer Of Mαgic, And I +ook +he Assump+ion I+ Wαs No+ Of +he Subjuggαlα+ion Vαrie+y AC: And You S+ole Deαd βodies AC: +hus Why He +hough+ I Wαs Abduc+ed

CA: yeah the lasst one'ss true CA: except for you being at my clinic becausse i thought you were dead, ssince ass I ssaid, another troll brought you in. CA: or maybe i didn't? CA: either way, i didn't drag you in becausse i thought you were dead CA: i couldn't even bring you into the proper room becausse i thought you were too tall for me to carry!

AC: Σxcuse Me?

CA: i have a valid reasson! CA: how long will you be in the area?

Dontoc stared at his screen blankly. He didn't know the answer to that question. The only reason he even left the comfortable island at all is that he realized he couldn't isolate himself forever, and from all his reading at home, Sandyhorn seemed a good place to start. So he responded the best way any absolutely confounded troll would.

AC: Whα+?

CA: i sswear i'll explain everything but i don't want to on the internet, even if trollian'ss ssuppossed to be pretty ssafe. CA: i know sseveral plassess where we can get ssomething to eat and you can meet me there or at my hive

AC: βut I Do No+ Σven Know Your Name

CA: you don't? CA: oopss! ^.^; CA: though to be fair i didn't actually antissipate talking to you again. CA: it'ss pallia. CA: sso lunch?

He hesitated. On one hand, he was genuinely curious what could possibly be going on, and he wasn't going to ever get over his anxiety unless he started socializing. But at the same time it was socializing, and in a public place no less. His curiosity won out.

AC: You Promise +o +ell Me Whα+ Is Going On?

CA: sswear on my life and my lussuss'ss life!

AC: +hen Yes, Pαlliα, I Shαll Mee+ You For Lunch +omorrow. AC: As I Am Afrαid My In+eres+s Were Piqued More +hαn I Σxpec+ed Upon A Forced Conversα+ion At A Ho+el.

CA: :D no issssues with that! CA: you know what? CA: that hivesstem you're at hass a resstaurant attached, we can jusst go there. CA: there sshould be sseating in the back and everyone'll be hungover from today sso we don't have to worry about any russh CA: ssound good?

AC: I Do Not See Why I+ Would No+

CA: fantasstic! :)~ CA: see you around twelve then violetblood!

AC: Erm, Actuαlly… AC: My Nαme Is Don+oc AC: +hough If You Wish +o Cαll Me "Viole+blood" I Will Not S+op You

CA: no no, dontoc'ss your name CA: calling you jusst violetblood would be rude CA: anyway, ssee you around twelve then, dontoc! :)~ CA: i'll be dressssed a little more fanssy than ussual out of sspite CA: may ass well pretend to be the creepy witch

calculatingAlchemist [CA] has ceased trolling algorithmicCollegiate [AC]

calculatingAlchemist [CA] would like to add you as a chump. Accept?

He clicked yes. Maybe out of hope, maybe out of desperation, or perhaps still out of the sheer wonder of who he managed to meet purely by accident. At least this would all be cleared up by tomorrow, and he could continue learning about land life.

He would just have to mentally prep for a possibly very long lunch.

***

Pallia arrived at the hotel five minutes early, wearing a black dress that touched the ground with a candy red cape, pointy hat snuggly in between her tall horns and a pair of shoes with just enough point to give the satisfied click on the tile floor.

"This is a place for honest folks," the receptionist, the usual cobaltblood she'd seen in here a few times, sneered. "And also, generally, trolls sitting higher than teal." She couldn't help but wonder if he ever actually slept or if he lived off of coffee.

"I am honest," Pallia said. "What, is this not honest to how trolls see me?"

"You know what I mean, tealblood."

"Not really. You said it was for honest folks. I don't think I've outright lied." She frowned. "Least as far as I can remember." Sure, leading other trolls on that she was a witch wasn't exactly honest and she could admit to that, but keeping the image up kept them from asking questions, especially when the image itself came out of a combination of calling what she did "alchemy" and her calling any medication she made for trolls "potions"....among other reasons. Only seemed fair she'd take the matter into her own hands and have control over it.

"You keep bringin' in all those pirates," he said. "I know you're working for them."

She rolled her eyes. "They were here before."

He muttered something - Pallia watched his mouth move - but she couldn't quite make out exactly what. All she could make out was something involving "keeping quiet".

There was a loud cough and she whipped her head over to the source, seeing the violetblood, Dontoc, from yesterday, walking up to her.

"Erm...hello," he said nervously. "I was afraid you would not completely remember."

"Nope!" She grinned, hoping it would calm him down somewhat. "And sorry about not seeing you there. I didn't hear you."

"You knew I was trying to call your name out?"

"I took a guess," she admitted with a shrug. "So shall we be off?"

He nodded. "That does sound like a good idea, yes. May I ask what you two were arguing about?"

"I'll explain when we sit down," she said as she started to walk towards the restaurant.

"Does it have to do with the outfit?"

"A little. Like it?" His mouth opened, but no sound came out. "You can be honest. No need to sugarcoat."

He did a once over of her, eyebrows raised in suspicion. "It is ridiculous."

She beamed at him. "Perfect."

They got seated almost immediately, all the way in the back corner as requested. And just as expected, they were the only customers present. Perfect. She just had to make sure the wait staff were tipped well and anything said here should stay here. That is, if it even got that far.

Dontoc looked relieved too. He sat down in the spot actually nestled in the corner. "Thank you for being willing to meet with me tonight," he said.

"Don't worry about it! You have questions, and depending on what they are, I'll have answers. Go ahead and ask whatever you need to," she said. With a smile, she added, "You look better, by the way. Your fins aren't curled in anymore. Still a little droopy, but they'll perk up. Try applying some water directly to them and your gills. I've heard that helps."

"You know a lot about seadwellers," Dontoc commented. "At least, for being unaware of the fin sensitivity."

Pallia laughed. "Comes with the job. That also wasn't a question."

He shifted in his seat. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not. I'm just trying to be funny and not quite succeeding." Her eyes darted away from him as she did a quick scan for any server, but found none. "Though note, I'm not going to answer anything when the server's nearby."

He looked at her, puzzled for a second, then nodded. "Okay. Yes, that...that makes sense."

"Just to get that cleared up. So, what's your first question? I'm not counting your earlier one as part of this whole thing."

Dontoc cleared his throat. "Well I guess to start, ah, what exactly do you do? To know enough about seadwellers - which, ah, apologies for perhaps sounding harsh the night prior about everything, as you were correct, it seems - and yet only know a pair of them. It, well, does not quite add up is all I am saying."

Well, that was fast. Certainly, Pallia anticipated having to explain to him what she did eventually, but she wasn't ready for it to be the first question. He seemed trustworthy, at least. He had some of those standard seadweller catches: the proper speaking style, the formal state of attire for casual daywear and assumption a landdweller wouldn't know the basics of seadweller function, but he didn't sound pompous and arrogant about it like Careen, more doubtful, much like she'd anticipate from someone spending their whole life underwater and told one thing their whole lives. And now, he didn't sound doubtful of her, but rather of himself. Plus, she trusted Glacin, a purpleblood - self-admitted former subjuggalator by force, no less - obscuring his face (to everyone except her and his matesprit) actively using chucklevoodoos just to communicate. One curious seadweller with obvious socialization issues (even to her) looked far more trustworthy than him.

Hopefully she wouldn't regret this.

Pallia whipped her head around the room again to make sure everything was clear. "What did they schoolfeed you about science?" she finally asked.

Dontoc raised an eyebrow. "Science? You mean the technology and military advancement done directly under the Empress or...?" His voice trailed of, uncertain. "Well, we did talk briefly about the various mass murders of--"

"Yeah. Those." She shuddered. "I'd rather not think about that," she said flatly. With a brief shaking of her head, she added, "But did they tell you what it is exactly?"

"Erm...no. Well, yes, they did, but it did not sound correct. Were they supposed to?"

"I don't know. Lusus didn't want me to get schoolfed so I self taught myself most everything. Poor Monty would block the door just so I wouldn't go! And he might've eaten a truancy drone. Do those exist?" She shrugged. "Besides, I had enough stuff I found around my hive I managed to teach myself a lot, or had a couple others come in and help me. One of the pirates taught me a ton about plants that I didn't know, and I found out way more about computers when Aisral taught me and -- I'm getting on a tangent. Anyway, it is-"

"Hello there dears, can I get you two some drinks?" a new voice asked. Pallia jumped at the noise and turned towards the source. Hopefully she hadn't heard too much, she thought.

"Just water for me and…" she turned to Dontoc, who was currently hiding behind the menu, "him too."

The server nodded and walked off. Dontoc muttered something too quietly for Pallia to hear and she cocked her head.

"You're gonna have to speak louder. Your voice gets really quiet," she said.

"You did not have to do that. Um...thank you," he said. Pallia still had to struggle to make out the words, but thankfully it was at least quiet enough everywhere else she could do that much. Dontoc swallowed thickly and gave her a sheepish smile from overtop the menu. "So, what is it then?"

Pallia nodded. "It's studying the natural world - or unnatural world - and figuring out why stuff is the way it is, and how we can make use of that, through rigorous research, questioning and testing. And that's what I do. Several others that work with me too, but I'm really the only one who kind of works with the public. Well, me and Aisral but no one's going to try and slaughter her for "breaking the miracles" or whatever." She grimaced. "The only trolls who call us scienstiffs are those subjuggalators and anyone under them."

"So you being a witch then…?"

"I practice chemistry and biology and apply it to a lot of medical work. Two of the big three practices that is extremely regulated by the Empress. So I call what I do 'alchemy' which isn't that far off anyway, use the right jargon and suddenly word starts going around that I'm a witch. The body snatching thing probably didn't help with that," Pallia said with a shrug. "But that didn't scare you off."

Dontoc ran a hand through hair that looked like he had done that a thousand times already tonight. Maybe he had. "I have had my fair share of presumptuous judgements that I at least wanted to hear your side first. You seemed nice enough at least," he said. "Oh, and here come our drinks."

The server handed them their drinks and asked what they wanted for food. Pallia rattled off her regular - grubshrimp overtop rice in a spicy sauce with all the fixings - and Dontoc just ordered a piece of fish and a couple sides.

"They really are taking their time." Dontoc asked.

"Well, yeah. Normally with me they're longer because they normally serve cobalts and indigos coming to and fro. They're probably playing nice because you're a seadweller, while moving slow enough to try and...I dunno, either deter me from returning or deter us from eating together," she said. She scrunched her face in thought. "Maybe both?"

"Oh. Lovely," he muttered dryly, just loud enough for her to hear again. "I was hoping to escape all of that."

Pallia giggled. "You haven't been on land for very long, have you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"If you thought being on land would make people care less about blood caste? Yeah, kind of. You'll see it for as long as you're on land, which I guess won't be long."

"Mm. Perhaps." He shifted in his seat again, moving so he was leaning forward on the table. "I have found seadwelling life may not be for myself and am, as such, attempting life on land. Mainland."

"Oh cool!" She beamed at him. "But that's off topic. I bet you wanna know about the uh...the body thing."

His fins fluttered lightly (leaving Pallia to make a mental note that they seemed to respond to different vocal stimuli than Mayola's or Careen's) as he answered, "Yes, if you could."

"Well, unlike some others in a similar line of work to myself, I like to hold myself to an ethical standard. So I don't practice anything on unwilling live participants. Thanks to a couple rumors I'm sure were started by subjuggalators after the last massacre, there's a fun idea out there that all doctors are amoral, torturing monsters," she said bitterly. "And lowbloods - well all trolls really, I shouldn't single one set out - just leave their dead there. Which is unsanitary. So I take the bodies and either use them for science or bury them. Sometimes they get fed to Monty. Keeps them off of the streets, at least."

"For science."

"Yeah. Normally for examining anatomy, but also for seeing what they died from. I'm trying to keep a record. It's especially good for seeing which diseases are more commonly culling and what should have vaccines made of them. Vaccines which are basically things you inject to let your immune system learn how to fight off diseases, either by giving you a muted form or -- oh look at me, I'm rambling. I should move on or we'll be here all night," she said.

Dontoc shook his head emphatically. His fins looked perkier than they were even a few minutes ago. Interest? That's all she could fathom. "No, no. I actually am quite interested. I feel like I have learned more these past few days than the whole time being schoolfed." His fins shuddered as his eyes widened. "Oh my, that came across not quite as intended."

"Well, it's not like I learned all of this myself. There's a lot of old books and diagrams back at my hive. I think they're from whoever was there beforehand."

If Dontoc wasn't sitting on the edge of his chair earlier, he was now, back straight and eyes focused wholly on her. "There are? Um, I mean, interesting. I could ah, keep them safe you know. Not like take them or anything! But transcribe them and keep transcribed copies at my hive. The old mansion is already a somewhat illegal library to begin with. Extra books are not going to hurt it in the slightest."

Pallia grinned. "I think I like the sound of that," she said. "Do you live close by?"

He slumped back down in his chair. "Not exactly," he admitted. "It would be quite the trip to come here daily."

Silence. Pallia knew what she wanted to do immediately, but she had to stop and think. Make sure this wasn't the worst idea she was about to proclaim. He already knew where she lived, so if he was some sort of inquisition, it was too late already. Aisral lived with her, and connections to everyone except Glacin and Sekier were easy enough to make, fuchsia protection from Mayola be damned. And if he wanted to transcribe her notes, that was always good. Even if he took them and ran off, so long as she snatched the originals and hid them back in the secret tunnel, they'd remain safe enough. Not like she had to tell him about that part of the hive.

With her mind made up, it was her turn now to sit on the edge of her seat, leaning forward with shining eyes and steepled fingers. "You don't have to if you don't want to, you know."

"But I want to!" Dontoc exclaimed. "What you are doing sounds fascinating and --"

"No not that! Goodness no! I have two whole floors of nearly empty rooms in my hive and already one other troll living with me. So long as your lusus can survive on their own I see no reason why I can't set up a room for you," Pallia said. "And if you want, we can get you a lab too. Plenty of those as well. You'll just have to meet all the others. Aisral does textile engineering. She lives in my hive on the fourth floor. There's a seadweller who's constantly commissioning pieces from her. Zanchi studies genetics and evolution. Volcor studies mechanical engineering. Those two live nearby and stop in periodically. And Glacin normally just throws himself up on videochat with his matesprit. He studies pathology and epidemiology and his matesprit studies…" Pallia paused for a while and tapped her chin a few times in thought, "necrobiology. Or something like that. It's unique. And like I said, I study biochemistry. I can show you what I'm working on when we get there. So how's that sound?"

The other troll was silent, but his fins were fluttering heavily. Happiness? Wait no, flustered, Pallia thought. It was all she could guess.

Dontoc then nodded. "You want...you want me to live with you?" he asked doubtfully.

She deflated slightly in her chair. "If that's okay with you, of course. If it's not--"

"No no. I ah...you caught me off guard." He let out his own laugh, though it sounded bittersweet to her ears. "Let us just say I am unused to such kindness and leave it at that."

"Then it's settled," Pallia said. "It'll be nice having someone else in there, even if it's just a warm body. Aisral doesn't count."

He grinned. It lit up his whole face, perking his fins further and lighting his eyes, and Pallia quietly hoped it could stay that way. "Your behavior is somewhat infectious, just so you know. Even if you are a tad strange."

"Is that a problem?"

He hummed. "I do not think so," he said. "Oh, and one last question. To ease my own anxieties."

"Hm?"

"He mentioned unsavory trolls coming to your hive for care. Is that true?"

She nodded. "There's a big pirate place pretty close and they know everything I do is safe and effective. But don't worry, they don't touch anything in that hive. One of them did and ended up getting eaten by a giant snake. He didn't initially, but giant snake is so much easier to explain than horrible acid burns....then giant snake. Word spreads fast."

"That is why you said if I had any problems with an attempted assault to let the troll know who sent me, is it not?"

"Exactly!" She saw him flinch at the sudden shrillness in her tone and added, quieter, "That doesn't change your opinion does it?"

"Pallia, I am afraid you got me far too interested in what I do not know and wish to know unless you said it was to end in my culling I do not think I could turn back. One one hand, they do tell us curiosity is what killed the meowbeast but…"

"But satisfaction is what brought it back," Pallia finished. She leaned back in her chair right as the server came over to give them their food. "And somehow I think living here will satisfy most of your curiosity for whatever you were looking for."

"Perhaps," Dontoc said. "It will if nothing else, be an interesting ride."

[noxloved-archive]

Can you sort your muses from weakest to strongest?

so, for simplicity’s sake, i’m going to go with ‘how well would this muse do in a fight’ as my metric here (because if we went for emotional strength, well, we’d be here for a long time.

under the cut because i have a fuckton of muses. oops. (the real reason i decided to wait…i forgot how to do readmores on mobile lmao). as in the ask, this is going from weakest to strongest. also will be assuming main verses for them all (since phila, for example, would be much stronger prior to the fall, but i don’t want to put her twice).

frankie - frankie has zero combat experience, and due to their disabilities, melee fighting is a no-go. they do pick up archery while in askr, because they don’t feel comfortable being out in the thick of things with absolutely no means to protect themselves, but because they’re still learning (and the chronic illnesses don’t make it easy) and because their disabilities often wear them out, they wouldn’t last that long in a fight.

ethlyn - ethlyn is primarily a healer. she can use a sword, and while she’s not bad she lacks the strength to do a whole lot of damage–it’s enough to hold off an enemy until help arrives (or until she can escape), but she’s not exactly anyone’s first choice for front-line fighting.

elise - elise can use tomes, but she’s still learning, and her siblings are understandably reluctant to have her in the thick of things, since she’s thirteen. with that said, she has a natural talent for magic, so she can deal some devastating blows. 

flora - flora states herself that she’s not particularly adept at the combat arts, and she’s not. with practice and time, she could become strong enough to hold her own, but her primary role in the army is support…especially in birthright when she has to recover from all those self-inflicted burns. she’s also similar to yoshiko in that if she turned completely towards magic, she’d actually be a better fighter, but she’s forbidden from doing so under king garon’s stipulations (not that those mean much in birthright or revelations, but there’s a learning curve).

miriel - strong in magic, but not the most agile of fighters. she’s actually a little on the clumsy side, and she doesn’t care much for fighting. she does it because she needs to in order to be a shepherd.

yoshiko - if she used offensive magic, she’d actually be a force to be reckoned with. but she doesn’t, having gone for the yumi instead (as a deliberate limit to her fighting strength). that said, she is fairly decent at hand to hand combat. what she lacks in physical strength she makes up for with knowledge of the body and how to turn an opponent’s strength against them. 

rosalind - rosalind, unlike frankie or yoshiko, is actually a pretty good archer, and she also keeps a dagger or two on her person just in case someone gets close. she’s also got a lot of dirty tricks and other strategies up her sleeve, so she’s far from defenseless.

maribelle - maribelle, like elise and ethlyn and flora, is also more of a healer than a fighter, but she’s got her fair share of experience and while she’s far from bloodthirsty, she doesn’t hesitate during a fight and she’s not averse to doing what she thinks needs to be done. also, her confidence helps.

faye - faye is still in training, so she’s not the strongest of pegasus knights, but she’s got determination in spades and a good lance arm thanks to having grown up laboring in the fields. by the end of echoes, she probably ranks somewhere around the same as caeda.

florina - florina isn’t the strongest, physically, nor is she the most experienced, but thanks to a strong bond with huey she can easily hold her own. if nothing else, huey can act as a weapon. (just kidding…sort of)

aileen - aileen, in theory, makes for a pretty formidable opponent, as she has high resistance and can wallop an enemy with dark or anima magic. however, her ptsd can hinder her in battle to the point where she needs to withdraw, and she’s not physically very strong. 

phila - sure, she’s disabled, but phila still has a lot of military training under her belt, and if you give her a mount she’s still a formidable foe. it takes her time to build back her strength after being bedridden with near-fatal wounds for months, but she’s not gonna let that stop her. that said, she’d have a hard time fighting without a mount…unlike her pre-fall self.

lianna - she’s never been as inclined towards the martial arts as rowan, and it shows. but she’s not bad by any means, either.

chihiro - despite their relative lack of experience, they manage to survive garon’s suicide missions, so i’d say that counts for something. plus, they learn pretty quickly how to fight out of necessity.

myrrh - while myrrh is very strong in her draconic form, she’s more or less defenseless in human form (unless you want to count the fact that she can fly). in other words, in humanoid form she’s good at escaping fights, but not so good at actually fighting. but that also means she doesn’t get hurt too often unless she really needs to hide her identity as a dragon.

idunn - i’m ranking her above myrrh in dragon form largely because she was more or less formed into a weapon and because she’s a mage dragon, meaning that spells don’t do anything to her. however, in human form she’s likewise defenseless (well, except for her absurdly high magical resistance–she may as well retain the properties of a mage dragon as human). she’s the final boss for a reason.

nah - unlike myrrh and idunn, nah can fight in her human form. she’s not exceptional at it, but necessity dictated that she learn to do it. even though idunn is by far stronger than her in draconic form, nah’s greater sense of free will and the fact that she can defend herself in human form place her higher on the list.

panne - panne also suffers from the significantly weaker in human form thing, but like nah, she knows her way around a fight in her human form. she’s actually better at it than nah is, though, hence her being the “strongest” of my transforming muses.

nyx - nyx has had centuries to hone her craft, and it shows. her biggest drawback is that her body is a little more on the fragile side, and her chronic pain means that she doesn’t have the best stamina on the battlefield. she’s good at hitting hard and fast, and then pulling back out for the longer haul.

katarina - katarina’s biggest downfall as a fighter is that she’s too kind, honestly. it’s relatively easy to tug at her heartstrings and therefore cause her not to fight at full capacity. with that said, she’s a highly trained assassin, a decent tactician, and a competent mage. if she’s going at you with full force, you’re likely in for some trouble.

eliwood - he’s well-trained and has excellent fighting technique, but he’s not the strongest of fighters (in part because he doesn’t care for it all). putting him on a horse helps a fair amount, though, as does giving him durandal.

caeda - caeda lacks the formal training of, say, the whitewings, but as she fights alongside marth and his army, she grows to be a formidable fighter in her own right. though she’s not trained in strategy, she’s good at thinking on her feet, too.

cynthia - cynthia is a seasoned fighter out of necessity. you can tell she’s significantly self-taught, but she sure as hell is effective. if she gets caught up in her heroics, however, she sometimes leaves herself wide open. she can also be reckless during a fight.

lyn - she’s well-trained, fast, and highly determined. in other words, she’ll probably kick your ass. with that said, she can be a little hot-tempered, which can get her into trouble, and while she’s physically strong, she can still be overpowered by an enemy.

anelie - like lyn, anelie can be overpowered by an enemy, but anelie fights dirty thanks to her training as an assassin on top of her skills and speed. it’s the dirty fighting that puts her just barely above lyn. 

palla - she’s an elite whitewing, meaning she has formal military training and a boatload of skill. she had to, because the whitewings had to prove themselves useful in an army consisting mostly of wyvern riders. her mount is also fiercely protective of her. 

sonya - i’m just saying, there’s a reason she made a name for herself in grieth’s army. she has no qualms about killing those who stand in her way, and she’s a formidable mage to boot. like anelie, she’s also more than willing to fight dirty. 

hanan - hanan isn’t as good at fighting as ruya, but she’s still a strong fighter on her own, and her strategic knowledge gives her an extra edge. unfortunately in a real battle, having to find alternate means of communication puts her at a slight disadvantage. with that said, hanan is nigh-indestructible thanks to grima.

chrom - he’s physically quite strong and has an unpredictable (albeit flashy) fighting style. he’s also constantly honing his craft, and he’s able to practice with a wide variety of others due to the shepherds’ eclectic fighting force. however, he’s largely self-taught, which does leave some holes in his technique, and his flashier moves can leave him open to attack.

sigurd - his mount may as well be a weapon itself, and he’s a highly skilled knight used to fighting against tough opponents. 

camilla - her wyvern is a force to be reckoned with, and she’s got brute strength and raw magical power in spades. between her own innate fighting prowess and her ruthlessness on the field, she’s one of the strongest fighters in my muse list.

aversa - tbh, aversa and camilla are about equal in strength, though aversa is slightly stronger in magic and slightly weaker in melee combat than camilla. aversa also has a little more tactical know-how.

xander - xander is canonically one of the strongest fighters in fates, and he’s helped in no small amount by the fact that he has a divine weapon. he’s also fully capable of being ruthless when he wants to be, and his war horse is nothing to scoff at either. he’s also very strong tactically.

zeke - he’s pretty close to xander in strength, but i figure the fact that he somehow manages to survive an unplanned voyage across the sea while on the verge of death counts for something. 

ruya - before you accuse me of favoritism, I HAVE AN ACTUAL REASON. ruya might not be the best melee fighter, but she’s got strong magic and a fuckton of skill, meaning that her skills tend to trigger often, not to mention her strategic advantage. moreover, like hanan (actually i wrote this hc for her first), grima drastically boosts her defenses, meaning that she’s really fucking hard to kill. 

[phoenix-before-the-flame]

Embers To Ashes

I said I’d try to get the second chapter up in a week. It’s been two weeks.

Well i’m not perfect!  I did say I wouldn’t be able to stick to a proper update schedule!

But here we are, at chapter 2 and I hope it’s to your liking! Please enjoy,leave reviews, send questions if you have them (not about updates though, that’s rude)

chapter 1, chapter 2

Mage- A magician or learned person; a person with magical powers

Lucy’s hair danced lightly in the wind, hanging loose around her shoulders. The day’s bright, she’s out of Era, nowhere near the council and the bag strapped around her, keeping her shirt from flying up as the breeze playfully tugged its hem, is filled to the brim with goodies as she heads home.

Not that crummy, lifeless apartment issued to her so that no matter what, she’d be close at hand for them to call. No, her real home in Fiore, the guild.

Toot! Toot!

A train sounded behind her, shooting a column of dark smoke in the air when she sets foot outside the station. It almost sounded happy. At least to her anyway.

Magnolia hadn’t changed much in the months she’s been away, it was still lively despite the military slowly but surely encroaching on surrounding cities and towns. It’s one of the few free cities left in Fiore for people with magic to live since emancipation around 40 years aback or so. Well free enough, the scorn still lives on in the minor population of those without magic and though not all laws are as enforced like anywhere else, there are still some that get in the way of people trying to live a normal life.

But either way they find a way to make a living. Lucy breezed past familiar market stalls overflowing with colourful fruits and crafts and the equally colourful heads behind them, hollering at passers-by to stop, stay a while and buy their wares. A particularly girthy woman stepped from her stall, her purple hair in tightly braided ropes, whipped around her face as she sang about her goods. How her creams could smooth even the roughest of skins and keep the smoothest ones supple.

Coloured hair, and sometimes eyes, were the sign of a person with magic. It made them stand out whether they wanted to or not, magic leaves its mark on a body. It wasn’t true for all magic users, like herself and Gray but some chose to escape the scorn and ridicule through dyes and contacts.

Lucy politely declined. Most people with magic become higglers, selling from wooden stalls or even going mobile wheeling handcarts through the too small streets. It was a good deal for them, honest work that could get them by with local authorities only ever watching them from a distance.

Though some went other ways like to work in brothels and molly houses. Lucy eyed the notorious Ruthven lane as she went. There were many other lanes like this, squeezed in the cracks of buildings that most would glance over unless, of course, they were looking for it.

Their work stood on the borderline of the law, constantly toeing it. It was illegal yes, but never quite enforced enough to stamp it out. Probably because the majority of its consumers are law enforcement but hey, who’s keeping check?

It was the closest thing Magnolia has to a seedy underbelly but it was nothing compared to the illegal fight rings in Crocus or the human trafficking in the port city of Hargeon.  Those weren’t underbellies, more like the blood running through the streets in more ways than one and being their main sources of income, they can’t be so easily stopped.

But there were others who sought to actually to use their magic instead of ignoring that part of themselves. Some dove headfirst into the military despite obstacles and for the rest, well they forged their own paths by aligning themselves with guilds.

Guilds popped up everywhere since emancipation, places where magicked people could use their abilities to do any sort of odd jobs to get by. They ranged from entertaining at children’s birthday parties to acting a disposable security during transports. No matter how big or small or demeaning the job there were always those who were willing to try and get it done for their sake or those who depended on them.

Unlike most other guilds tucked away in corners or quiet and simple in how they appear Fairy Tail was anything but that. It stood proud in Magnolia’s center, rising high above the other buildings as though they were built around it. Only Kardia Cathedral rivalled it in size yet wasn’t nearly as loud.

From the sign with its name carved in pain staking detail held up delicately strong fairies to the orange flag at the very tippy top emblazoned with the guild’s emblem for all the world to see, especially when the sun caught it just right.

To Lucy, it just screamed ‘here I am bitch! What’re you gonna do about it?!’ which in a way, perfectly described the people inside.

She shoved open the door just in time to narrowly dodge a flying table, it cracked down the middle and landed lamely on its side, legs twisted at odd angles. Home sweet home.

There were old faces mixed with a few new ones, getting along over drinks banged on tables, their frothy tops spilling over as rowdy conversations made the air crackle to life. She hadn’t been here in months and quite frankly she missed being around the constant noise and the occasional violence.

She quickly skirted around a skirmish that soon parted when they saw her. Pretty soon she had drawn the attention of most guildmates, receiving hearty claps to the shoulders, loving hair tousles and waves from those not close enough to her. Of course, she returned most of them, which was probably why her wrist hurt so much by the time she pulled up a stool at the bar where the ever-friendly barmaid slid two drinks her way with a twinkle of mischief in her brown eyes.

“Well, well, well, looks like we have a celebrity in our midst.” Cana said, pulling a glass to her lips to take a quick swig of its contents.

“Cana.” Lucy smiled, pushing the second glass towards her friend. “You know I’m not supposed to drink on the job.” “A little midday drink never hurt anyone Lucy. Don’t you remember how much fun we had the last time?”

Of course she remembers last time, well some of it anyways. One drink turned to many, then a drinking contest, then some late-night partying on top of the tables. Then next thing she remembers she’s waking up half naked in Cana’s arms at her friend’s place. Not that Lucy minded but she’d rather not have a repeat of that in the near future.

“Maybe another time then. Anything else I can interest you in, non-alcoholic beverage, a warm meal, nice hot company?” Cana set the empty glass on the counter and reached for the other one, a flirty grin tugging at her lips.

“I might take you up on that last bit. You know if the Master’s in? Got some stuff for him to look over.” She patted the bag in her lap that looked a little too close to bursting for comfort.  She might not have finished her main job yet but there were other things at the council worth taking home in the meantime.

“Holed up in his office as usual and working himself to the bone like you. Your eyes are sinking in ya know.” Lucy waved her off, rising to her feet and fixing the bag strap. “Yeah, yeah. We can chat about my deteriorating health later and you can get me caught up on all the stuff I’ve been missing around here.”

“Can’t wait for it.” Cana flashed her another grin, bigger with a flash of teeth before turning to deal with a customer whose arms were laden with empty flagons ready to be refilled. “Just wait until you hear how Nab’s last job went!” She called.

Lucy stuck close to the bar to reach the flight of stairs at its end and began her ascent. Maybe that’s the one thing she didn’t miss about the guild. She dealt with stairs at work, she dealt with stairs to get up to her apartment, stairs at the guild were really pushing it. Especially when Master Makarov liked the view of the city so much that he put his office on the top floor. Her legs might be benefitting and looking great but her lungs were having none of it.

Though, she could slightly understand why his office was up here, peering out a window at the city sprawling out below her. It looked so calm with the light of the sunset running through the streets. Almost like nothing bad ever happens on those twisting lanes. Something caught her eye directly below in the guild’s courtyard.

Huh, looks like the hospital bay expanded when she was gone, and the living quarters too.  When Lucy lived there it only about 5 rooms and now it was double, almost triple that in size cutting into the courtyard’s space. The times were different now she supposed.

Lucy rapped her knuckle on the door rather absently, too intrigued by the revelation to notice the hushed conversation inside drawing to a close. “Enter.” The Master’s voice drawled.

She pushed open the door to find the office more cramped than before. Papers about god knows what flowed out of every available crevice and where those couldn’t they were piled high in precarious stacks that constantly wobbled to and fro from the breeze blowing from the little fan, set on its lowest setting to avoid catastrophe.

She could barely see the diminutive man at his desk almost devoured by the papers coming at him from all sides. At least the other man was a bit easier to spot in his chair, his blue hair standing out amidst all the crisp white and aged yellow parchments.

“Lucy.” Jellal greeted, a soft smile creasing the red tattoo on his cheek. “It’s been too long, you’re looking-” He glanced over her features and chuckled. “- very tired.”

“Thanks for that, you can have a chat Cana about it. How’re your brothers doing?”

“Fine, Siegrain is working in Veronica after that last uprising trying to work with authorities to keep dark guilds from moving in. Mystogan, last I heard from him was somewhere over in Stella rescuing magical creatures from whatever inhumane conditions they were living in. He made a great rescue with some exceeds a while back.”

“Sounds like they’re getting stuff done.” Lucy mused. “Yes but it doesn’t quite stop people all over from thinking that I’m somehow in all these countries at the same time.”

“Well maybe you all shouldn’t have gotten the same face tattoo.” “A drunken mistake on our parts I can assure.”

“And how’s your wife?” Lucy teased. “I didn’t see her downstairs.” She definitely didn’t miss the faint dusting of red on his cheeks at the term ‘wife’. They’d been together for years even before they joined the guild but only recently married for about a year or so. It was always cute to see how either of them went from intimidatingly serious to soft, blushy messes when they were around each other.

“Erza’s home resting.” He replied. “She’s been pushing herself to stay on her feet with the activist party and to keep the seat she snatched up in parliament for the magic people. I left her asleep but when I get back she’ll likely be up and about, trying to get back out there.”

“That’s Erza for you, the powerhouse.” Lucy carefully stepped in to avoid slipping on any loose papers when he stood to leave. That’s when the Master finally piped up. “Aren’t you going to tell her the good news as well my boy? You’ve yet to make a proper announcement to everyone but make an exception since she hasn’t been here in a while.”

“What good news?”

It was then the light blush dropped a shade darker and Jellal’s soft smile went a bit goofy around the edges. “Erza’s………pregnant.” Pregnant rested heavy on his tongue as he scratched the back of his neck. “We’ve known for about 2 weeks now.”

Her eyes lit up and she swiftly wrapped her arms around him in a hug more spine crushing than she intended it to be. “Oh Jellal that’s wonderful! Congrats! I know you two’ll be great parents that’s for sure!” Lucy released him with a smile to mirror his. Erza always wanted to be a mother.

“Thank you, Lucy,” He said beaming widely. “I think I should be going now and let you attend to your business with the master. Makarov.” He nodded towards him then retreated out the door. Well, he walked into the doorframe then out the door.

To think that there are actually people out there who are intimidated by him, Lucy thought, sinking into the chair he just left. If only they knew. Maybe it’s the tattoo that gives off that vibe.

Makarov cleared his throat and shifted a stack of papers obstructing his view to the side. A few sheets fluttered free and landed in a growing pile by the foot of his table. He looked haggard, the shock of white hair had thinned considerable in the months she hadn’t seen him. And while the hair on his head was disappearing his usually kempt moustache (which he was very proud of) had evolved into a wild beard that curled around his lips and reached up to tickle his nose. In the words of Jellal, he looked very tired. It was enough to draw her attention from the sunken dark circles and the vein standing up in his forehead.

And that scent. Lucy sniffed, well maybe not.

“Have you been smoking again?” She inhaled again, picking up unmistakable traces of tobacco in the air.

“Um, well my child, that’s the mosquito coil burning. It’s summer and you know how fierce these magnolia mosquitos can be- I can’t afford to catch anything in my old age.”

Lucy cut his ramblings with an incredulous look. After practicing it on Gray for so many years it had been perfected, guaranteed to make most fess up their crimes in an instant.

“It was only one,” he grumbled, “Jellal didn’t seem to mind.” “Jellal doesn’t know that you shouldn’t be smoking. Especially after the last time.”

The one day Porlyusica took some time off to relax he had some sort of attack mid-puff. His throat closed up and had him clawing at it, gasping desperately for breath. The scratch marks are still there. They were lucky Porlyusica lived nearby else he’d be dead, and heaven knows how the guild would function with the loss of their favourite old man.

Since then Erza and Mirajane take turns watching his health, making sure he doesn’t chance anything.

He rubbed his temples, blowing out a weary sigh that seemed to take the last of his energies with it. He aged 10 years right before her very eyes.

“I know my child.” He said guiltily. “But it helps to keep my mind off things, off the stress you children go through because the old fools like me couldn’t finish the fight we started.”

“Master….”

“You all tell me not to worry but it cannot be helped. You’re all out there on the frontlines dealing with whatever’s thrown at you and I’m here, dealing with the paperwork to try and keep you all as safe as possible.”

Makarov swatted the papers on his desk, the crease in his forehead deepening and his eyes darkened. “Empty lawsuits that can still make it to court, scouring the continents for new clients, complaints, the council breathing down my neck to disband but to do that is to ruin lives. Fairy Tail is the prime example of legal guilds, if we disband others will too.” A cough wracked through his body though he waved off her concern, taking deep breaths before continuing.

“And don’t get me started on those radicals. Damned dark guilds giving the council all the more reason to try and shut us all down. Equality can’t be gotten through violence, but do they know that? Jellal and his guild have been hard at work but for every one that goes down at least 2 more pop up in its place.”

Lucy murmured in agreement, eyeing a particular sheet of paper with its title written in elegant cursive. One lawsuit against Reedus for………painting a non-magic model in the park without permission. The court date was next week.

“Well maybe I can bring a spot of good news in all of this.” She tried hopefully, holding up her bag for him to see.

“You don’t have to worry, none of these papers in here are for you. They’re some of the new laws and their requirements regarding magical people and creatures. It’s for Erza to use as evidence in parliament.”

“That looks like a lot. The poor thing’s fit to burst.”

“Well there’s more than that, you should know me better.” Lucy said proudly. “I got another set of runes for Freed to work on.”

Makarov’s eyebrow raised slightly, his lips twisting in a small smile. “So soon my child? You aren’t overworking yourself to try and get this done?”

Lucy giggled. “You shouldn’t be one to say that, but I’m fine. A little bit of extra work isn’t anything I can’t handle. In a few more months I should have the rest for Freed to decode, then we should be in the clear for our next step. Right?”

Lucy set her bag down on the table gently and pushed it closer to Makarov. “Just keep it in there so it doesn’t get mixed up with your things.”

His smile grew a little wider at her quip. “Will do, marvellous work as always. But I can’t help but be a little worried.” “Master you’re always worried.”

“Call it a part of my work. You’ve been hard at work and I couldn’t be any prouder, but are you sure you’re alright?”

Lucy frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Well you’re putting yourself at risk. And it’s taking a toll on your health. You’re so close to your goal, maybe you should slow down a bit. Take some rest, things won’t go to hell if you look after yourself.”

She shot him another incredulous look and he cringed slightly. “I can’t ‘slow down’ Master. I’m getting my job done, like you assigned me to do.”

“Yes, I know but that won’t be the case if you’re incapacitated.”

“Which won’t be the case because I’ll be done before that happens.” She said hotly. “I’m an overworked, underpaid council worker, doubling as a secret stealing spy. If I slow down for even a bit I might risk blowing my cover. And that’s something none of us wants.”

Lucy crossed her arms defiantly. “What I’m trying to get is the edge we all need. And I’m going to get that edge in the next few months.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk in frustration. “Why are you so stubborn……. Can you just promise this old man that when you’ve finished your assignment, that you’ll take the break that you need?”

“I promise. But I’ll have you know that I’ve been getting in some Lucy-time recently.”

“‘Lucy-time’ is not the same as getting yourself proper rest.” He tutted. “You should be aware of that.”

Ok, the Master might have a point there, but she’s not telling him that.

Lucy sank into the chair with a heavy pout on her lips, yeah she had a lot of things doing with loads of risks with every action she takes on a daily basis but she can’t take a break now of all times, not when she’s so close!

And even after that, who else is going to go back and forth from the sub-level with the restricted information? No one else knows the place as well as she does so of course she’ll be the one getting that done too. The type of rest Makarov wants her to take isn’t going to come anytime soon. But she’ll break that to him when the time comes.

“So, Cana’s managing the bar now.” She said, shifting the attention from herself. “I thought she only worked the night shift.”

“Covering for Mira,” Makarov replied, “She and her siblings are somewhere in Crocus working with Lamia Scale on a job.”

“Well I hope it’s nothing degrading.” She murmured. Mira and Lisanna were usually contracted as models and Elfman was either hired muscle or entertainment for people to laugh at his beast takeover. They weren’t particularly fond their usual jobs but they got it done.

“On the contrary, they’ve all been hired to shut down a fight ring. A particularly nasty one that popped up recently that’s been kidnapping children right off the streets.”

A shudder passed through her. When she left her father’s estate she’d stayed in Crocus for a few weeks and she lived in fear for all that time, constantly afraid that she might be snatched up to fight for life and limb for someone’s amusement. To think that not even children are safe from its dark underside now.

“It’s going to take a while so you won’t see them back at the guild anytime soon. In fact most of your guildmates won’t be around soon, big jobs like that are being taken up by them constantly.” He steepled his fingers. “They’re tired of the mediocre jobs and want to prove themselves as more than what they’re usually used as.”

“That doesn’t sound too good.” Makarov shrugged. “It’s getting them some attention and the other guilds are picking it up as well. It’s an odd sort of resistance I’ll admit, but it is working for them.”

“Well they better be careful out there, there’ve been more reports of the council cracking down on people even when they haven’t been doing anything.” It happens but it’s been worse in the past couple of weeks from the reports she copied.

“Bah! The council,” he grumbled. “They love magic and what it can do for them but not the people who have it running in their veins.”

“I know.” Lucy sighed, taking a stand. “It’s disappointing that that’s how things are, for now at least.”

I’m heading back downstairs for some flirtatious conversations and gossip, and possibly food. Maybe I can get a head start on that break you’ve been telling me about.”

“I’m sure it’ll be more of an extended Lucy-time more than anything else.”

She held back a snort. “Maybe so. You should join me, we can make it a ‘Makarov and Lucy time’ because something tells me that you haven’t left up here in a while. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Well if one of my children is paying for my dinner how can I say no?” He huffed out a laugh, slipping out of his seat. Only a tuft of his white hair was visible over his table. “Now let me just find my cigars……”

“Master.” Lucy warned.

“It was a joke! Just a joke; I’m coming.”

[looselucy]

HS & MB

For you, @snlhaz Happy Birthday (sorry it’s a little late)

Mature one-shot / Harry Styles

Happy Birthday, MB. All the love, H. She sniggered to herself, placing the tag down and then eyeing up the small box that she’d woken to find just outside the front door of her flat. She had grown accustom to this sort of thing at some point over the past year. Harry liked to surprise her with gifts she didn’t need, usually when he wasn’t around. When they were together it never happened, far too wrapped up in one another for the short time they had before he became the publics again rather than hers. But Harry was materialistic, openly so, and if he could lavish the girl he’d found himself falling in love with, with gifts she had no need for, then he would. Shoes he’d seen her eye up for a moment longer than she needed to. Bags he’d seen her admiring on the arms of other women. He wanted her to have those needless items, for no other reason than just having them. She believed her birthday gift would be the same sort of thing.

“Harry Styles, you are ridiculous.” She whispered to herself, pulling at the bow around the box so it easily unravelled itself. The early morning bustle of London was loud outside, the sun deciding to make an appearance for once, and she welcomed the day with love. She wished it was slightly different, that maybe she’d be lucky enough to wake in his arms and spend the following hours the same way. His job was what was stopping them from sharing such a morning. His excessive workload and his millions of fans. Although she missed him, she knew he was out there making himself and millions of others happy. That was enough to make her smile. Once the light blue ribbon had fallen to the counter, she finally lifted the lid from its place, her stomach knotting as soon as she saw the lingerie that was sitting perfectly inside the box, a dark cream colour, lace and sexy and lovely. “Fucker.” She breathed to herself, giggling just a little as she reached for the note inside. Wear these today and think of me. Miss you. Love you. She recalled the very first time he’d asked her bra size, disguised it with a childish giggle that made her feel like he was a pre-teen who was only just beginning to notice what tits were, only to receive some underwear from him less than a week later, black lace that was soft to the touch and made her go weak at the knees. She’d known he was special then. She’d known then that Harry Styles knew exactly how to woo someone, exactly how to make someone feel special, like she was the only person he wanted despite so many people wanting him. She remembers that being the moment she knew that she wasn’t just a passing woman for him, that maybe they were both feeling maybe a little more than they’d bargained for. It had been eight months since her first set of lingerie. This new birthday set marked her fifth, and her favourite. She finally lifted them from their spot, wondering if the effects receiving such a gift would ever die down; that her stomach wouldn’t knot and she wouldn’t feel woozy and nervous and excited. He wasn’t even around and it was almost like she could feel his prying eyes, hot as they roamed down her body, watched her dainty hands playing with the fabric. She wondered if the effects of Harry Styles, and his actions, would ever ware thin. She doubted it. - “Okay, I’m going to get ready now!” She squealed down the phone to him as she forced her key into front door. “You’re an hour behind schedule. Y’know that, right?” “Harry, the fact you’ve scheduled my birthday is ridiculous enough in the first place. I’m allowed to be running a bit late.” “Yeah well you’re meeting the girls for drinks in half an hour, so you need to get a move on.” She giggled as she wandered into her home and darted towards the bedroom immediately, not really caring that she hadn’t stuck with the plan Harry had set her with how she would spend her day. It had been littered with tiny surprises, from the lingerie in the morning, to coffee with her parents, to a box of donuts being delivered to her door and lunch with some of her friends. He’d sorted everything on her behalf because he knew full well she’d have never gotten round to organising anything herself and sulking if she hadn’t done anything. “Okay, well I’m in now so I’ve gotta go. I’ll probably ring you when I’m drunk later.” “Be safe.” “I will. Oh, and don’t-” The words died in her throat when she opened her bedroom door and saw him there, phone pressed against his ear and a knowing smile on his face. Her mouth dropped open as she became completely mobile, trying to wrap her head around the fact he was there. “Hi.” He said down the phone. “Sorry, gotta go.” She replied. “I’m about to cheat on you with the mysterious man in my bedroom.” “Wear protection.” He grinned. Without even thinking she just let her phone drop to the floor, running over to him and practically throwing her body on his, wrapping her arms around his neck. He kept her slightly afloat with the tight clasp of his strong arms around her waist, nose nestled into her neck and soft chuckles caressing her skin. “What are you doing here?” She squealed as he gently swayed her from side to side. “Lied to you about my schedule so I could surprise you.” “Bastard!” “Don’t pretend you’re not happy.” “I’m beyond happy.” She sighed, home in his arms. “You’re still a bastard though.” “Noted. Fucking missed you.” Every time he said he missed her, her stomach flipped and twisted and knotted like she’d never heard the words before. She felt as though she’d never fully get used to his absence, because waking beside him and living her life in conjunction with his felt familiar. It felt right. His absence, no matter how common, always felt like a shock to her system. Missing one another was a feeling they knew far too well, and yet it would always be something they could never get used to. “I missed you too.” She cooed. “Thank you for being here.” “Whenever I can, Baby. Whenever I can.” She finally moved her head so she could force her lips on his, kind, affectionate, soft, but it didn’t remain that way. When she felt him slowly lowering her so her feet could meet the floor again, he moved his hands to pinch at her waist, a strength in his grip that she hadn’t fully been expecting. Before she knew it they were stumbling backwards, crashing into the wall beside her door and his lips becoming heavy on hers, tugging at his soft hair and gasping against his delicate tongue. She’d never had anything like this; being a year down the line with someone and still feeling as though she was obsessed with them. There hadn’t even been a hint at their bond fizzling out, it just changed. Excitement and uncertainty had shifted and become trust and passion. Like had shifted to become love. Each alteration and twist felt just as exhilarating as their initial stages had, if not even more so. “I want to see your present.” He grunted against her lips. “Do you have it on?” “I do.” She whispered back once he began to move his lips and litter love to her neck. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” “Show me.” He groaned, tingling her skin. “I thought I was already running late.” She teased. “Might as well run really late.” She giggled as he curved his lips back upwards to kiss her passionately once again, before quickly detaching himself, walking backwards until the back of his legs met the end of her bed, where he sat himself down and clasped his hands together. He raised his brows, silently instructing her to reveal the gift he’d purchased. It wasn’t that she felt uncomfortable with him, but she still went tense. Harry knew every dip and curve of her body. He knew every scar the stories behind them. He had kissed almost every inch of her and fallen in love with every single perfection and imperfection her figure possessed. His eyes would always welcome her frame, and she knew that. But she also knew the intensity behind his gaze, how she could feel it burning as it ran down her dress that reached the floor. She could feel the glare and heat behind his wanting eyes, sizzling her skin and twisting new knots into her stomach. She lifted her shaking hands to pull her arms from the loose sleeves of her light blue dress, keeping her eyes on his as she hunched either sleeve from her shoulders, the material soon falling with grace down to the floor, gathered and bunched around her feet. He slowly took his eyes down her whole body, licking and then biting his lip, until he reached her feet, at which point a grin cracked his cheeks. “Are you wearing Vans?” “Yeah. Why?” “You’re wearing a beautiful, floor length dress… with a tattered pair of Vans.” “Yeah.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why I expected any different.” “Now will you stop looking at my fucking feet and look at the underwear instead please!” She cried, a smile breaking onto her face. He licked his lips again as his eyes moved back to her body, inhaling and then exhaling deeply, and all he could think about was how perfect that colour looked against her pale skin, how pure she seemed with lace pressed against her frame and goose-bumps crawling over her skin. He knew she could look good in anything, or nothing, but sometimes it was amplified. “The only bad thing about me buying you these pieces is that they actually just make me want to rip them off.” She slowly approached him, her confidence beginning to build once more as she sauntered over, slowly straddling his hips as he leant back on the bed, propping himself up with his strong arms and looking up to her like she had pearls of wisdom sitting on her lips, desperate to be heard. He was fascinated. “Please don’t rip it.” She whispered, moving her lips to ghost his. “I really like it.” “Yeah?” He tried for a kiss, aching when she distanced from him just slightly, teasing him. “It’s beautiful, I love it. Thank you.” “Did you notice?” He whispered back, constantly nudging his lips closer in the hope of being blessed by her kiss. “The slit… down the crotch.” “I did.” She shivered when he snapped the short suspenders against her thighs. “As much as I’d love to see you with nothing on… the thought of being able to fuck you whilst you’re wearing them has been driving me insane. I need you, Baby.” “Desperate?” She smirked. “Please kiss me.” He begged. “Touch me.” She moved to bite his bottom lip, hearing the groan form in his throat as she latched onto him, pushing her hips forward and down to feel the tight bulge in his jeans, his lashes fluttering as he realised that with her he always felt like he was falling. He never felt calm, bored, or like their love was routine. He was always falling in love with her, dropping from a dizzying height, wind in his hair and kisses on his lips. It was exhilarating. He flipped her around, landing soft on her plush sheets and pushing his groin up between her legs, grinding on her and loving how easily he could make her breathless. His tongue worked against her bottom lip for a brief moment before she widened her mouth and kissed him back with a fevered passion, pushing her hips up to him as much as she could. He made sure she was as worked up and agitated as she physically could be before he clambered off her and stood at the side of the bed, biting his bottom lip and glaring with a deep desire down to the woman he loved, laying with her legs just slightly open, waiting for him. His movements were rapid as he undressed himself, unable to take his eyes off her. She knew he loved her like that, wearing something that made her feel good, looking up to him longingly, the way her eyes filled with wonder. He loved to see her and be aware that she was his to hold, his to love, his to fuck. He loved to see her that way and know that they were each other’s. Sniggering a little about the shoes that were still on her feet, he finally took off the final item of clothing that had been hot on his body all day, an unwelcome layer as thoughts of her had conquered his mind. He got onto the bed once more, smothering her body with his again, kissing down her jaw as he stroked two fingers between her folds. He relished in the feel of her heat, the way the material that formed the slit in her panties brushed down the sides of his fingers as he dipped them into her, opening his eyes so he could see the profile of her face, the way a timid and yet smug smile practiced its shape upon her lips. She couldn’t even begin to explain how much she had missed him. Not just what he was doing to her, but just being that close to him again. When they were that close, a new heat created itself, even when they weren’t touching. The heat was something physical she could feel, in her head and her heart and her stomach. Love was warm for the two of them; flames and sparks that sizzled and danced across their skin. She turned her head to the side to catch his lips with hers, shivering a little when he extended his thumb and it lightly grazed across her swelling clit, curving his free hand around to the back of her head so he could lace his fingers through her hair and push her even closer, their kiss intensifying. She realised quickly that she couldn’t even stand the foreplay. She was already soaking, her pleasure apparent on his print, her body writhing. She knew she couldn’t wait. She managed to manoeuvre the two of them so that she was straddling his body, his grip on the back of her head still tight, reluctant to stop kissing her. She lifted her hips just slightly as she stroked the very tips of her fingers down his body, loving the shot of adrenaline that burst through his body when she finally took his dick in her hands, stroking up with a light, teasing touch. He stopped kissing her then, parting their lips quite breathlessly. “Baby,” He groaned, lolling his head back and gripping his eyes shut. “Fuck.” Hotel rooms were lonely places. After years on the road he still hadn’t quite gotten used to them. He’d rather sleep on the sofa in a friend’s house than experience that feeling he did whenever he walked into an empty hotel room at the end of the day. His stomach would drop when he saw those lifeless, pristine rooms, their lack of character a ghost that would haunt him through the night. His mind would always go to her, and his hands would often wander. But nothing came close to feeling of having her dainty hands touch him there. After giving him a few gentle strokes, she finally positioned herself the right way, holding him upright as she gradually lowered herself, watching him intently and admiring the way his face changed as he slipped inside of her with ease. She could watch that moment forever, the moment where it finally happened. He’d always bite his bottom lip, scrunch his nose just a little, his eyes would grip shut. He looked so beautiful. She swallowed, remaining rather motionless just for a few minutes as her body adjusted to his size, and then she began to move, gently rolling her hips against him, releasing a shuddered, exhausted breath that had been jammed within her throat, wetting her lips as she took her eyes off him and cracked her neck back. His hands traced over her thighs, thumbs against the thin braces that kept her stockings up, brushing upwards heavily before stroking at her sides, over her gorgeous plump hips and dipping at her waist, pushing his groin up a little more, hoping to feel as much of her as he could. The feel of the lingerie against the palms of his hands and the tips of his fingers forced him to open his eyes and witness her, grinding on him in the perfect way she did. Sometimes he couldn’t believe that it was her he got to open his eyes to. “I love you.” He whispered subconsciously, a slight ache in his torn voice. “Harder, please.” So she moved a little quicker, placing her hands on his waist, gripping and pressing down as she began to bounce a little, smug when she saw him unravelling a little more. He let out these tiny whimpers, completely unaware of them but she loved them. The noises made him seem vulnerable somehow, innocent, even with a woman on top of him. They were the whimpers of a young boy in love rather than a man full of passion. She heard those whimpers and she knew their love was pure. “Kiss me.” He begged. “Baby, kiss me.” Grinding her hips in the process, she lowered her mouth to meet his, their tongues fucking immediately as he moved his hands to graze through her hair. He was needy in the bedroom, hands all over her and words begging for what he wanted. There was one time she’d briefly denied his wishes and he’d actually pouted until he got his way. She wasn’t even sure it was a conscious thing, but when that bottom lip poked out a little more than usual, she couldn’t say no to him or deny his pretty little face. She pinned his hands beside his head on top of the pillow, weaving their fingers together and slightly overwhelmed by his tight grip, literally able to feel how desperate he was in the tight hold of his sweaty hands and eager work of his jaw, which was tight, sharp as he kissed her avidly. He used the way their hands linked and flipped the two of them with ease, immediately pushing into her as deeply as she could. “Fuck, Harry-” “Put your legs over my shoulders.” He gasped, still fucking into her with a calm pace. “Please, Baby.” Cooing over his polite demands again, she did as he’d asked, the change of position forcing a new feeling into her stomach as he started to fuck her even harder than he had been, completely immersing himself as he glared down at her, watched as each harsh movement of his powerful waist weakened her, pushed her closer to her edge. He loved to see her peak, not only because it made him smug as hell but because there was such a beauty within her parted lips, trembling hands and her glistening skin. Then there were the noises she made, these exhausted whimpers that were proof that he’d pushed her to her absolute limit and she had loved every second of it. He felt alive when those noises finally starting forming, and so did she. She laced one hand through his hair and gripped the other at the side of his neck, doing those little gasps that gradually built, the ones he’d summoned from her the first time they fucked, found himself replaying the noises in his mind on the drive home, ripping his hair out because he fucking knew that he was obsessed with her, that he wasn’t feeling the way he usually did after sleeping with someone. “Touch me.” She whispered. He took one hand off the headboard he’d been using to support his body, extending two fingers to rub her almost aggressively, just how he knew she liked it. He could almost see the sparks of bliss spiralling through her body, pink and gold. He pretty much shrugged her legs off his shoulders, needing to be closer to her for their final moments. Once he could, he layered her body with his, kissing her neck as her walls clenched around him, feeling her wet warmth sliding over his skin as he jolted into her a final few times, his body weakening, finding himself biting her neck and groaning with power as they both came. “I fucking missed you.” He hissed. “I missed you so much. Fuck.” This part was always ridiculous. There was something about Harry Styles coming that made him just blurt out his thoughts, and it had only taken her a few times with him to notice. He’d told her he felt lonely whilst still inside her. He’d told her he loved her the for the first time whilst still high and grinding into her. Something about it just made him blurt out his feelings, and sometimes it was powerful, but most of the time it was just funny. She giggled to herself, still breathless as his heavy touches became soft, stroking down his spine and smiling to herself. “I know you did.” She sighed. “I love you.” He said before kissing her neck again. “Your honest cum thing worries me.” She chuckled. “I’m worried that one day you’re just going to blurt out like I don’t love you anymore.” He lifted his head so she could see his face clearly, and he was trying to look offended by the mere suggestion but he eventually started laughing, falling to the free side of the bed and brushing some of his hair from his face. “Nothing can be worse than the time I said your pussy is so tight.” “Fuck, that was terrible.” She cringed. “I’m so sorry.” He chortled. They laughed together for a short while as they calmed down, daylight disappearing as the room became grey, her head still spinning a little. Eventually, he lifted again, leaning over her from his side of the bed, brushing hair from her eyes so he could gaze into them sufficiently. “Never gunna fall out of love with you, MB.” He spoke lowly. “Glad to hear it, H.” She replied.

[musingofafish]

Bounty Hunter Draft Part 1

“Why am I here?” the smooth voice mocked in disbelief. “I think I am supposed to be asking you that. You know, since this is MY house.” A dramatic sigh filled the air as the man sitting in the window gazed over. His face was a mask of boredom as his dark brown eyes took in the woman. Her dirty brown hair flowed down to her shoulders, framing her fair face with messy waves. Her own hazel eyes were still hostile toward him, which can be expected after finding a dark haired man reclining in their home. She wore khaki cargo pants and a black tank top while he was coated in black jeans and fitted black jacket. While She pretended to be a typical cop on most days, he hid from the world. He calmly spoke with an ancient British accent “I don’t mean it so literally my dear, I was referring to why you hold yourself back from reaching your goals.”

            She stood in the hallway staring him down as they both slowly analyzed the other, waiting for a hint of either’s next move. The anger slowly faded from her stone cold gaze as she quickly exhaled. She turned and strode over to the small kitchen, signing for him to follow without a word. He stood against the wall with an obedience that only comes from years in their occupation. She pointed to a chair without looking as she grabbed two beers from the broken fridge with a practiced ease. She sat in her own chair and effortlessly kicked it back onto two legs while placing his drink down. He took it without complaint, it is traditional after all. She smoothly took out her knife and he removed his own, both opened the drinks and set the weapons on the table. There would be no other weapons in the room, just an undercover woman, an invisible man, two knives, and two beers dripping with condensation.

             Their eyes met once more as she finally broke the silence with her own accent, a sweet mix of militant cultures from the base. It spoke with an edge that could not be ignored but still had a subtle whisper that drew in men and women alike. “Sometimes goals are not worth the pursuit in worlds such as these. I still get paid and I no longer run from the light of day.” The man looked over her balancing figure once more, what she could have experienced to drive her to this has always been a mystery. One hidden in the dead eyes of countless victims and blood splatter found in old hallways and hidden crypts. “The pay is much better on my side of the deal, we both know that” he responded without missing a beat, “There must be a reason for your disappearance. So I ask again, why are you here? What are you doing living like this, like a common street cop?”

She looked over with a sad smile and a bitter laugh left the woman. “You are here and you followed every one of the steps I set up a long time ago. You walk like a man who knows my world of birth and the world in which I will die. So that means you also know that only one of us can leave this room alive.” He spoke out, cutting her off from continuing and plastering a look of surprise on her visage “Sorry to interrupt you but I think I owe you an explanation before you go on. I am a… hired gun, but I’m not here for your life. Well, not exactly. My employer has an offer for you. A new job, all the gear and money you want, you can choose how the jobs get done. It’s everything a mercenary can want. But… If you refuse then I have been ordered to… take you off the market.” His head lowered as the last words slipped out of his lips and silence fell throughout the room once more.

“Let me tell you a story. It’s a long one, so you might as well get comfortable.” His brows furrowed at how the woman could be so calm when presented with her death, but then again she probably knew she wouldn’t be the one dead if this went wrong. Her voice drew him back in as she stared up at off white  and yellowing ceiling as if it could display the memories of her past.

“I’m sure you know this, all of the others before you have, but three years ago I was just like you. Sure I had more reputation and power, people will tell you I was stronger, faster, smarter, and just straight up better than you could ever dream of being. I would never correct them, but truth be told I was just like you when I first started. I was only five years old, sold into the job and kept as a pet project of some freak show scientists. I didn’t know much more than the pain of training and experimentation until I was ten. By then they had perfected me under their loving care. The pretty little weapon to sell off to the highest bidder that they dreamt of. My physical and mental capacity was higher than any other human my age. But that wasn’t good enough for them, they wanted more. They wanted to make up for my bodies weakness. So, they stuck another mind into my head, an AI named Cyphren.

He was a part of me, quite literally when you think about it. We learned to work together, I had my natural abilities which were trained into me, allowing me to serve as the physical carrier for the operation. He could easily transfer into tech of all kinds and facilitate what needed to be done, a portable virus which can work in unison with the human mind. I would smooth talk and fight, he would hack and infiltrate. He handled the armor enhancements and I used them to finish the mission. We were both serious to a fault when it came to the mission, a byproduct of the torture needed to create both of us, but I was still a kid then. He knew this and would care for me emotionally in our off time. He would stay up with me, pull me out of a bad nightmare, he would even tell me jokes. He was the light in my very dark world all through my teenage years and he reminded me that happiness and love weren’t dead.

By then I had been sold off to someone who could actually use our talents and Cyphren of course followed along. We had gear, money, respect, power, everything we could ever want in our field. I was twenty one and I served as the second in command for the Boss, you probably know him as Reaper, the angel of death, or some other edgy version of that. I took up the name Shadow, more specifically Death’s Shadow. I did as I was told and I did it well. Everything was good in life. Sure I never got close to anyone other than the voice in my head, I never had a normal life either, but I was at the top of the life I was handed. Almost the top. Reaper was the Boss, he told me what to do and if I didn’t get it done then bad things happened. Luckily for us I was good at what I did, and I knew how to follow orders.

You might’ve noticed I referred to Cyphren in past tense. Well, that’s because of what happened when I was twenty five, three years ago. The day I left that world behind. He was all I had, and the Reaper knew this. The job was simple, go in and set off an electromagnetic bomb that would shut down all the tech in the area. It would knock a major competitor off the table and maybe ruin the days of a few civilians while we are at it. It also, would shut down Cyphren. The area was guarded to the point where I was the only one with the skill to get in, and if I refused the job not only could the group be wiped out but dear Reaper would torture me until he figured out how to break down Cyphren and destroy him slowly. I really had no choice, but I did have an hour before I had to leave for the mission.

I ripped him out, I had to save him.” At this point she moved a small chain around her neck and displayed the implant sitting inside a clear locket. Its dull silver surface was tinted with old blood but the chip itself still gave the impression of care as its surface glinted in the light. “I kept him safe, but the impact of disconnecting was like nothing I have felt before. A part of me died that day, and I felt it as we were ripped apart. The job was done and I left, it was clear I had no support there had I had nothing left to lose. I went into the civilian world as a legal mercenary, paperwork and everything, but I never found someone who could give me Cyphren back.” Silence fell over the room as the young man finally understood. He looked up from the chain to stare back into those hazel eyes and he saw something other than deadly intent, there was a grief hidden in those depths that spoke to hundreds of open wounds.

He finally found his voice after listening to the clock tick on for what felt like hours. “I….I think I can help. I helped with implants like that before. I can try, but he might not be the same as you remember. He would have been struggling like you have.” Her eyes searched him for a second before she nodded, not trusting her own voice. He tapped on the table as he thought, “There’s this facility, an underground research center for… questionable work. I may be able to get what we need there.” She got up and walked toward the closed door across the hall, “Give me ten minutes to get what I need. We can do this tonight.”

He walked over to the window and watched the sun slowly sink further in the sky as he waited. She emerged silently from the room as his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Your employer checking in?” she called out, causing him to quickly flip around. She changed into a full black outfit, similar to his own down to the hidden armor and tools. Hers seemed to be built toward versatility and mobility, while his was designed for interfacing with tech while offering increased protection. He nodded to her as he checked the message, “He can wait though, I’ll tell him you just walked into the building.” She smoothly checked herself one last time while replacing the blade from the table, “Whatever works for you, let’s get going shall we?”