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vaguely-concerned · 9 months ago

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A Stitch In Time First Read Reactions & Thoughts Monster Post Part 2

and the adventure/Garak's horrible life continues!

Part 1, Part 3

- “That’s who he is now, Tolan. He’s a man.” I heard mother’s voice as I approached the opened door to our housing unit after a training session.

“He’s hard, Mila,” Father said.

“He has to be,” she replied.

“But to the point where he’s unreachable?” Father asked. “Where nothing penetrates? How can he express even his basic needs if he’s trapped inside a shell?”

“It’s better this way, Tolan. I know what’s in store for him,” Mother interrupted. There was a momentary silence.

“More Bamarren,” Father said, almost to himself. There was another silence indicating the discussion was over. I decided to take a walk.

Tolan my man. You are planting some seeds in a garden you won’t live to see here and you are so important and valid for that. Tain does his best to crush this all out of Garak eventually and almost succeeds, but I really do think that little chime of having been genuinely, unconditionally loved by someone is part of the reason he can start growing again once Bashir shows up on the scene and brings a bit of sunlight back, as it were. One man’s love can’t save you from the totalitarian state or people like Enabran Tain, but it can leave room for the possibility for something different one day, under other circumstances

- “Let’s have some tea.” He laughed because he knew that the tea he drank, which was brewed from the roots of some shrub, had made me gag the first—and only—time I’d tried it. I had a separate container of the common choban variety. We took our containers and settled in a shady place that faced the playing children.

This is such a lovely real-feeling little detail to work in — he got to taste his dad’s coffee once and Didn’t Care For It so he has his own little box of fruit tea or whatever fdlksa.

“The first Hebitians had an advanced culture that was sophisticated on every level, Elim. Yes, it was solarbased, but they were able to support themselves, and this is what most of the planet looked like.” He waved his tea container to indicate the Grounds. The idea was almost too outlandish for me. Soft and green places are rare on Cardassia.

“It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? We live in constant struggle with the land. We’ve become as hard and dry….” Father trailed off and sipped his tea. I thought of my favorite place at Bamarren, and almost told Father about it—but how could I describe the enclosure without speaking of her?

All those secrets already getting in the way of him sharing the things he really wants to with the people he loves…

I remembered that Calyx had called me an “air man” and wondered if I didn’t get it from Father. Mother often complained that he didn’t have a grasp of what she called our “power-driven reality,” and he would reply that his reality was driven by the same power that grew his plants and shrubs. These arguments always left the house feeling divided and cold.

“I love this place, Elim. And it means a great deal to me that we’re able to spend this time with each other working here.” Father smiled and put his hand on my shoulder. He rarely touched me, and the contact embarrassed me … and sent a warm feeling through my body. I felt like one of his plants. He kept his hand on my shoulder and stared at me with an intensity that made me afraid of what he was going to say next.

Let me indulge in a Harrow the Ninth quote: “You were so afraid anyone might touch you. You had always been afraid of anyone touching you, and had not known your longing flinch was so obvious to those who tried it.”

“Was this your … ‘power,’ which makes the plants and flowers grow?”

Father’s face broke into a beaming smile, and I thought he was going to grab me. He had never looked at me like this, and I felt somehow proud that my question had gotten such a reaction. Suddenly he looked past me, and his expression—so open and so animated with the attempt to explain what essentially was unexplainable—became as unreadable as that disembodied mask.

Mother was at the door. I don’t know how long she had been there, but she was not pleased.

“Oh, Tolan,” was all she said.

“Get cleaned up, Elim,” Father said. I was aware of a strong forcefield that I had been caught in the middle of many times before. It always made me feel helpless, and this time was no exception. I gladly complied. As I was about to leave the room, however, I saw Mother’s eyes as she looked at Father. Intimate was not a word I would ever have used to describe their relationship—efficient or collaborative, perhaps—but I had never seen how much distance actually existed between them until this very moment.

Considering the fact that they’re actually siblings… I’m only impressed they managed to leave Garak with a view of romantic relationships that isn’t even weirder than it is. The starvation diet of intimacy he grew up under tho, even with parental figures who loved him as far as they were able…

- (About Mila) She was a sturdy, compact woman with prematurely graying hair and strong features that were now leading the way. She was always very patient with me, but I was under the impression that she had something of weight and consequence on her mind that discouraged everything but essential interaction.

- LMAO oh of course he uses the holosuites basically as a sauna. An ill-advisedly horny sauna right now, even fhsajkjfsa. Dude I know you’re bored and Julian won’t speak to you as much as you want him to but this is some extra level of you shouldn't be doing this (as if that has ever stopped him)

- “You’re going to work today, son.” She remained true to her course and didn’t look at me when she spoke.

“I’ve been going to work every day,” I responded, out of a childish loyalty to Father.

“That’s not your work,” she stated. “You’re a man now, and you’re being given a great opportunity. I want you to behave like a man and submit to the path that’s opening up before you.”

“Have I ever opposed your wishes, Mother?” I probably imagined the slight crack of a smile on her face.

. . .

“Your father has ideas I don’t agree with … that are best left unexpressed. I advise you to forget them. They’ll only make your work more difficult.” She stopped and looked at me for the first time. “Understand, Elim—you are being given the opportunity to move above the service class.”

I recoiled from both the word I mistrusted and the implication that the work Mother and Father did was low and demeaning.

“I was taught that the service class was an irreplaceable piece of the Cardassian mosaic,” I replied with crude irony.

“Listen to me!” she said with a passion that startled me. “You are my son and you are a Cardassian. Not a Hebitian. Look around you!” she commanded. I did. We were in the great public area which is surrounded by the buildings that house the power of the Union. “Hebitians did not build this. Cardassians did. Your father and I serve and maintain, but we do not influence or guide the destiny of the Union. You could. That’s why you must submit right now! Do you understand me, Elim? Once we walk through that door,” she indicated the one that led to the subterranean levels of the Assembly building—to the Obsidian Order—'you must submit to your fate.”

Mother’s eyes were burning with an intensity that communicated a care and passion that was every bit the equal of Father’s. I nodded dumbly. She took a deep breath and composed herself. Unconsciously, she smoothed my hair and tugged at my tunic.

“You’re a good boy … Sleg.” This time the smile was real.

He’s SO loyal!! Just the implication that what Mila and Tolan do isn’t valuable or important and he’s ready to throw hands with someone about it fdskjdas. Also “I’ve been going to work every day,” I responded, out of a childish loyalty to Father. GUH. One of nature’s ride or die people

Before Palandine, the other person in his life he uses humor to bond and communicate with is his mother. Don’t have any conclusions to draw about this but I just think it’s neat

I don’t blame Garak for having a Pavlovian horror reaction to the word ‘opportunity’ after all this

Unconsciously, she smoothed my hair and tugged at my tunic. God. God. God.

- “But what am I here for?” I now felt bolder.

“You’re here to find out who you are. And to create your own story.”

“Story?”

“Your history. Up to this point you’ve been defined by other people’s needs. Mila’s. Tolan’s. Your docent’s.”

“Yours?” I asked. Tain laughed.

“Perhaps. But here you have the opportunity to change all that.”

Okay I’m starting to feel a little ill this is going to go so horribly oh god

“When you see your mother, she is ‘Mila’ and you are to treat her like any other service worker.” He held my look to see how I would react to the last order.

Cool cool cool he didn’t even wait five minutes to begin to strip away everything in his life that isn’t tain that’s so great and wonderful

- It was at that moment that I decided that not only was I not going to open up the basement, I was not going to rebuild the house of Enabran Tain. Instead I constructed the largest and most ambitious formation of material where the center of the house—Tain’s study—had formerly been located. This was my memorial to Mila, who remained entombed in the basement. If the people need a place to mourn their dead, to mourn a way of life that will never return, then I offer the home of Enabran Tain, the man most responsible for provoking this destruction. Parmak is right: otherwise, how can we ever move ahead?

I’m so proud of him I feel like a proud parent of this fictional gay murder man old enough to be my father

- I felt oddly disconnected, almost as if I were walking next to and observing this person, Elim Garak, who was playing out a fateline that demanded his submission, and over which he had no control.

. . .

Another basement, but much smaller than home. I wondered if I’d ever live at ground level or higher in the City. . . . When there was nothing left to do I decided to go to sleep. But I couldn’t. From upstairs there came the faint sound of someone moving about. It wasn’t Tain. But how could I be sure? He seemed to be everywhere else in my life.

What is his life but a series of shitty basements when you get right down to it

- Reading, or sewing, or moving my display clothing (optimistic about the shop someday opening again), I’d feel the walls slowly moving in.

I’m just so happy to have it confirmed he really, genuinely grows to enjoy his craft. It’s so cute and I’m so glad he’s excited about it. *doing classic code breaking spy work* UGH I could be sewing right now this sucks

- “Hallo, Garak.” He was waiting at the entrance. “I hope you don’t mind, but I had something prepared for us and thought we could take lunch in my office.”

“No—that sounds fine.” I was taken back by the suggestion, since we had never dined in his office before. I followed as he led the way to the cluttered space he usually reserved for private consultations. When I saw that the table was set for three, my system went on full alert.

“Are we expecting someone else, Doctor?” I asked.

“Well, uh, yes … or rather, Odo was going to try to make it, but he may be held up.” The doctor was almost too casual as he busied himself serving the prepared dishes. “He said we should start without him.” He uncovered my food: tojal in yamok sauce, one of my favorite Cardassian dishes. Now I was certain something was up.

“Where did you find this, Doctor?” I didn’t have the heart to tell him tojal is a breakfast dish.

a) wingman odo back in action!!! ~*mysteriously late*~, is he…. b) bashir knows what cardassian food garak likes best……….. c) this man is eating the alien equivalent of eggs and bacon for dinner b/c it’s such a sweet gesture from julian even if he got it slightly wrong… omg… d) nervous Julian… I would take a bullet for you

“Oddly enough, the chef at the Klingon restaurant fancies himself an intergalactic gourmet. However, I’m afraid the concept of chips still eludes him,” the doctor said as he held up a long, greasy strip of what he called fried potato.

“What’s the occasion, Doctor? You didn’t have to go to all this trouble. You’re a busy man.”

“I just thought it’d be pleasant if we had some privacy today,” he said, avoiding a direct look.

“Oh. For any particular reason?” I asked as I began to eat.

“Well, I… uh … actually was planning to talk about this after lunch.” I could see that the doctor was out of his element. Perhaps he was disconcerted that we had to conduct this lunch without a third party.

“Talk about what, Doctor?” I put down my utensils and gave him my full attention.

“Well, I was hoping that Odo would join us.” The Doctor looked toward the door with a look that corroborated my suspicion. He suddenly nodded.

“Yes, quite right. We should do this before; we’ll digest better.” He suddenly jumped up. “I have some rokossa juice … tea?”

“What is it?” My insistence pulled him back down.

“You know how important those codes are to us. I don’t have to tell you what that information means.”

“No one knows better than I,” I said.

“Of course not. And I respect that for whatever reason you’re … unable to continue to break them down for us.”

“Yes?” I prompted.

“You see, this is so difficult, Garak. I know what a private person you are, and how you detest people meddling in your affairs….”

“Ironic for a spy, isn’t it?”

“No, everyone has a right to their privacy, but … circumstances being what they are….”

. . .

“But you see, perhaps it’s something that I can help you address.”

“Your holosuite program. The one that allows me to visit the traumas of my childhood.”

“I hesitate to suggest this, remembering how you reacted the last time … but, yes, I feel it could make a difference,” the Doctor gamely admitted.

. . .

“And you don’t think that what’s in front of us has any connection to what’s past?” he asked.

“Of course it does, but not in the causal manner you’re suggesting. One model does not fit all, however admirable that model may be.” I smiled and gestured to the Doctor; but he wasn’t in the mood for a compliment.

You know Garak I’ll give you this you never give up and I think that’s beautiful.

“You have my word, Doctor. I will do whatever I possibly can.”

“I’ve never doubted that, Garak.”

I nodded, looking at the third setting. “Tell me, Doctor, why did you invite Odo today?”

“I thought since you were working together on this project….” His voice trailed off. We just looked at each other. “I think I was afraid to do this by myself,” he finally admitted.

“I appreciate your honesty, Doctor. Please assure the captain that I will pick up more codes from Odo today.”

“Thank you, Garak.” The doctor seemed enormously relieved. He gestured to our food. “I’m afraid it’s all gone cold. Why don’t we just go to the Replimat after all?”

“Excellent suggestion,” I eagerly agreed. (He wants to get out of there b/c the small space is making him claustrophobic)

I feel like this scene is more proof that Julian feels like he keeps messing this up. Thankfully his ‘I will help you if it’s the last thing I do’ instinct remains insuppressible lol. Look tho they’re talking properly again :) Julian admits this is hard for him too and that opens something back up a bit!

‘I’ve never doubted that, Garak’ has hit me in a certain kind of way too and idk why. Garak feels like he’s failing and Julian is so immediately reassuring that he knows he’s always doing his best.

- “Learn your stories, follow orders, and serve Cardassia.”

Yeah that’s about what it boils down to huh

- “You see, all you would have to do is prevent your opponent from putting the ball into your goal.”

“And I can’t use my hands?” I asked.

“No, the goalkeeper can use any part of his body,” Hans replied with the widest grin I have ever seen on a face. Children and their games, I thought.

Fdskhfkjsdhfkjsadfhkjdsafa fdsakljfdklas yeah that does seem very human. ‘Hey do you wanna play football with us?’ and GOALIE GARAK!!! And also young adult garak still being soooo…. Somber and serious lmao. I think some of Julian’s LARP nonsense vibes are going to be good for him long-term.

Also. maybe tennis one day. That’s basically what they do verbally anyway I think he could be brought around to see the fun in it if Julian’s on the other side of the net

PS: If Garak didn’t actually fuck Hans Jordt, he was definitely ready to do so. For Cardassia, you understand.

They exhibited such a childlike joy and enthusiasm as they played that I came to understand another meaning of the word “game.” What was more puzzling, however, was watching those people who played the game for no other reason than to … just play. If they or one of their teammates made a mistake, if the opposition scored … they didn’t seem to mind. Some even laughed it off. And at the end, every one actually shook hands and congratulated each other.

They’re not stupid—Maladek has dangerously underestimated them. But there’s something we don’t understand about these humans that limits our effectiveness in dealing with them.

*Attenborough Voice* and here we see the Humans, running around kicking a ball around for, they report, ‘sheer shits and giggles’. They proclaim the whole exercise ‘fun’, even when it results in no clear practical gain either in social standing or training.

- I could only make out the occasional word, and only then if it was repeated, like “yadik,” which is what a young child calls his or her father.

Cardassian term for ‘daddy’ found! Be sure to only use this information responsibly

- Hans continued to smile, and I wondered if he really believed these sentiments—or was this another example of Federation hypocrisy? These people reduced all political complexity to pious platitudes, while they constructed the greatest empire in the history of the Alpha Quadrant.

I really like Garak’s consistently suspicious approach to the Federation philosophically and in action — it’s not that he’s necessarily right about it (tho I think he occasionally has one or two points between all the paranoia), but it is what a clever cautious person on the other side of the divide would think.

“He’s not a traitor. But he needs help. I told him not to go to you, that we’d find a way….” I trailed off, translating my ignorant isolation into that of someone caught between two powerful forces. Tears came to my eyes, and I marveled that I had absolutely no emotional attachment to them.

Yeah I’m sure you have no circumstances in your life to draw from to make this convincing

But it was too late to back down; I had to rely on human prejudice.

“Cowardice and madness are unforgivable,” I went on. “They reflect flaws in the Cardassian character that can never be redeemed.” This was to a certain extent indeed true of cowardice; madness, however, was looked upon as a mysterious disease, and those who suffered were isolated and treated well. In any event, no one was killed unless the cowardice occurred in battle.

“My God,” Hans breathed, confirming, I’m sure, his belief that we were capable of any kind of atrocity. I hated his self-righteous superiority, and calculated the several moves that would send him flying into the abyss.

This thing Garak does where he tests people in ways he has deliberately set them up to fail — and then has a really disdainful hostile reaction when they do fail. Is a pattern, I feel. He does this interpersonally a lot of the time too. I guess it’s the ‘it’s illegal to say what you’re really thinking and feeling and what you need’ disease Cardassia instills in its children lmao. That and the constant lying are tools he can use to control the levels of emotional intimacy in a relation because he’s never been allowed to set actual healthy boundaries in a relationship (submit and subsume) and a person has to salvage some psychological integrity in whatever way they can, even when it can be kind of unpleasant in action.

In the same way that Julian shares the more problematic parts of his ‘I can fix them’ side with his father, this is also a trait Garak shares with Tain, but Tain does it more deliberately and less reflexively — for Garak I think it’s partially a compartmentalization/self-justification mechanism. He engineers to find a way in which a person is shitty so he gets to write them off in his head and then they can’t hurt him and hurting them can’t hurt him. (For the Dragon Age heads out there: very much the same pattern as we see Cole narrate that Iron Bull has to do to keep functioning. The Bull/Garak parallels are frightening to behold in some ways haha ‘it’s the same picture’. Traumatized pansexual old spies in exile support club) I’m not sure Tain has the emotional capacity for true attachment in the first place to need that most of the time — the only place it really seems to pop up is ironically in his relationship to Garak, which is also partially a narcissistic impulse b/c of the ‘flesh of my flesh/reflection of myself’ element of it.

- “I may put you on the enhancer.”

I said nothing. It was enough of a challenge just to return his look.

“How would you feel about that?” he asked.

“I would … submit, of course.”

Fucking horror show culture! :)

“You did well,” he said in the same flat tone. It was amazing how quickly and completely my spirits changed.

…praise kink headcanons in further development pls stand by

- “I told them that you were in over your head and that it was because you were trying to prove something to your father.” His eyes were suddenly furious, and he grabbed my neck with his free hand and held the phaser up to my head.

“What do you know? What do you know about anything?” he screamed in my face.

Ah. The dramatic irony. It burns me and my heart to a cinder. Maladek has a surprising impact considering how briefly he’s here

“Just tell him … you did the best you could.”

This is while Garak’s mental framework of fatherhood still works along Tolan rules. And it’s SO SAD b/c oh boy that ain’t gonna last long

“Come in, Elim.” Tain had his uncle smile working today.

I hate him I hate him I hate him I HATE HIM!!!

This was my first experience with Tain’s working methods. For him it was all a puzzle, and we were the separate pieces he put together at his pleasure. I had to accept that the final result—destroying the talks—was the one he wanted. But there was one question I needed to ask. Maladek’s final look haunted me still.

“What is it, Elim?” Tain asked.

“What happened to Maladek?”

“You didn’t hear?” He seemed surprised. “A terrible thing really. He killed himself.”

I didn’t move a muscle. I felt my throat begin to constrict. Tain watched me.

. . .

At least Maladek didn’t have to worry about what he would say to his father now.

OOFIE DOOFIE! ‘Better dead than a disappointment to your father’

- The previous leadership structure has been discredited; people are aware that the military was the most influential group, and their agenda was to keep the mechanism for conquest and expansion well oiled. As long as they brought back the spoils of this policy, they were able to hold on to their power. And while I think most people now understand that direct responsibility for our current circumstances has to be placed at the door of the military, there are still many who believe otherwise.

. . .

Another man from our sector, Alon Ghemor, the nephew of Tekeny Ghemor, the legate who believed that Colonel Kira was his daughter, is organizing based on the political belief that we have to rebuild a new society administered by civilian leadership, one that lives in what he calls “creative harmony” with the rest of the Quadrant. What’s interesting is that I went to school with Ghemor. I saw him at a rally that was held here (yes, my little Tarlak has become a focal point for the sector). When he appeared I yelled, “Five Lubak!” He didn’t recognize me at first, but then his eyes widened, and he answered, “Ten!” He seemed genuinely pleased to see me. Dr. Parmak, who’s an ardent supporter of Ghemor and organized the rally, was quite impressed. It’s encouraging to see that my old schoolmate has remained a decent man.

FIVE LUBAK WAS A GHEMOR AND HE’S FINE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! :D this made me unreasonably happy haha. Fellow MLM Pythas enjoyer made it safely to adulthood

I’m not smart or well-read enough on the subject to really speak on this in a meaningful way, but I do recognize enough to be really intrigued by all the elements and tropes of British culture and literature Robinson employs in this book. From the particular boarding school from hell flavour to everyone in high positions he runs into being old school mates and a lot of the social mores and dynamics going on in the background (right down to the specific brand of emotional repression required by the culture, for all I make jokes about Julian’s stiff upper lip direct callout haha). It’s the horrible strictly class-segregated colonialist & expansionist evil empire of it all, I suppose. I feel like the Cardassians aren’t quite this Brit-coded in the show itself (though of course the horrors of fascism and imperialism resonate across many different cultures in Earth history, that isn’t all of what’s going on here), where it’s more of a ‘little bit of this, little bit of that, add some grey face paint and gul dukat’s giraffe-length neck and hey presto you’ve got some real problematic alligators on your hands’, but it does kind of work. It’s an intertextuality that is more readily available for a novel rather than a TV-show too — the way the form of the narrative creates the parallels as well as the contents within it.

But this is our problem now (and I can see you ready to pounce, Doctor): What is our new mechanism of choice? A small group of Mondrig’s supporters are attempting to intimidate people, but to engage them with organized opposition would be dangerous.

. . .

Dr. Parmak, however, is a believer in the democratic principles you and I have spent many hours arguing over (what is it about you doctors?). He and Ghemor want the people of the sector to be able to vote. It’s a new concept for us, but everyone is so weary from the war and its devastation that it’s a serious possibility. Yes, I can picture you sitting with your feet up, gloating with that self-satisfied smile of Federation enlightenment. And perhaps you’re right.

The tiny little Julian that lives in Garak’s brain is smiling brilliantly but SO smugly and Garak is just fondly like ‘yeah yeah babe fine you win this one’ about it fjsdkfhajkhkdsjahfjksa this is. Unspeakably sweet to me. Just the depth of how much Garak clearly wants Julian to be there with him (which is deliciously ironic given my reading that Julian has been getting the complete opposite read on him. augh)

- Indeed, judging from the way I was treated, I was regarded as one of Tain’s protégés (the “sons of Tain” they called us), and held to a rigorous standard. I was envied and feared, but returning to this house had revealed the true depths of my loneliness.

:’’’’’’’’’’(

- “Look … Mila. He’s a man,” he said with wonder, as if the intervening years had been mere days.

“Well, isn’t that what I’m supposed to be?” I tried to joke.

I feel like I’m on fire. Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be…

“You have nothing to apologize for, Elim. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Ah yes. The fundamental Tolan/Tain divide. Tain would make Garak apologize for being born in a way so annoying to him personally and then not forgive him when he does. I think Tolan and Palandine are the only people who ever express to Garak they’re sorry for hurting him in this era

“Please, Father….”

“I’m not your father.”

I studied his face to make sure that he wasn’t drifting away. His eyes were clear and present; if anything, the glitter had intensified.

“Of course you are.” I spoke to him as if he were a child or a simpleton.

“Elim, there’s no time to waste. I have always loved you like a son. I wished with all my heart that you were my son. But you’re not.”

Now I felt like the child. “Then … I don’t understand. Who is?”

Tolan sighed. “Your mother is the one to tell you. I made a promise….” and his voice trailed off.

“I don’t understand,” I repeated. “Why?”

If I had a nickel for every time Garak had to beg his father to be allowed to even call him his father on his deathbed, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it says some real weird things about Garak’s life that it happened twice

“I don’t understand,” I repeated. “Why?”

“Oh, my dear Elim. The soul of a poet, and look at you … your closed face … all those secrets….” A spasm rippled through him like a sudden wind over still water. “Too many secrets … it’s like poison.” He brought his trembling, clawlike hand up to my face. “Too many secrets poison the soul.”

What a fucking microcosm of his whole life lmao. Just. Existentially confused at all times

“Now take them and go.” He closed his eyes and went completely still. I stood there a long time. Thoughts, images, feelings swirled through me, collided, lingered, dissipated—and I did nothing but observe them. I had no choice. To identify with any one of them meant certain chaos. I maintained my detachment as I repacked the red box. A part of me stood off to the side and watched the rest of me pick up the box, go over to Tolan, and press my open palm against his cold, dry forehead.

“Good-bye, Father.”

At all times Garak is sitting in the middle of his own on-fire mind like the ‘This Is Fine’ dog and that’s so relatable of him honestly

He calls Tolan ‘Father’ right up until the end of Tolan’s life. What the hell. What the hell.

- Mila seeing the red box and just like. Sighing fhskda

- “And I have a right….” She cut herself off and made a wide gesture with her arms that seemed to include everything around her. And then it hit me … and simultaneously we both heard his footsteps upstairs. A chill went through me. Of course. I went to the stairs and looked at Mother. Her face was softer, younger. For this one moment the distance between us had dissolved. The footsteps were now directly above us. My entire life had been dominated by his presence. So had Mother’s … and Tolan’s. I nodded and started up the stairs.

“Elim….” I stopped and looked back down at her. I could see how handsome and strong her face must have been when she was young.

“What, Mother?”

“Be careful,” she finally warned.

Fucked up by just how quickly he starts to understand and sympathize with her. He lashes out at her for ten seconds and then puts the pieces together and then seems to like. Start to understand. To forgive her, even. Interpersonally he is so generous with his own forgiveness even while being starved of ever getting it in return for the longest time.

This must also be one of the last times (if not THE last time) he calls her ‘Mother’ (he also calls her that when speaking to Tain right after, and Tain doesn’t mention it but surely notices, just as he notices him calling Tolan by his first name for the first time).

‘Closing the distance’ as one of the things Garak struggles most with in personal relationships and how it only ever happens for him in short glimpses…

- “I’m glad you’ve come to me here. We can … express ourselves in a way that’s not possible elsewhere.”

Indeed, the dark room with the piled scrolls and their musky smell, the artifacts and ancient wall hangings with their glyphs and symbols—was any of it Hebitian, I wondered?—was a world far removed from the cold efficiency of the Order. We were sealed away in an ageless cavern.

“Tolan and I shared a love of classic beauty, the old aesthetics that guided and revealed. He was a visionary, Elim. All those designs at Tarlak, the way the greenswards and plantings contained the monuments, never allowing them to brutalize us with death. Mothers and children are as welcome there as the guls and legates. All were based on classical designs. Oh, yes, he was a dedicated man. You were fortunate to be able to work with him.”

‘Never allowing them to brutalize us with death’ is SUCH a phrasing. What is Tolan’s complicity in dressing up the horrors of the military state to be serene and beautiful so you don’t have to think about the sources of atrocities that lie cradled beneath the tidy well-maintained graves. What’s the responsibility of beauty, if any, other than to itself. Thinking about Garak rebuilding a different kind of Tarlak from the rubble in the ‘now’ timeline. Wild shit. More his father’s son than you’ll ever understand Tain (this is a Tolan support blog ultimately he did what he could)

Also makes me desperately curious about what the fuck went down before Garak was born. Did Tain know Tolan through Mila or vice versa? How were circumstances such that Mila and Tolan were not publicly known to be siblings, presumably? Cardassians have robust public records about that sort of thing, after all, that’s what Garak’s Obsidian Order cover story boils down to lol. Full siblings but from somewhere far enough away that no one knew them in this city, half-siblings or raised apart, not actual biological siblings but grew up together, what is the thing here? Born out of wedlock and so fallen conveniently between the administrative cracks somewhere? They’re clearly not actually living together as man and wife (thank god), but I assume they were married on paper because I doubt Tain would let there be any way to suss out the truth of the situation and leave someone to guess at his own involvement. But then Tain has friends in high places and no scruples slash soul, he could probably get something suitably convincing arranged. Also such a perfect illustration of uh everything going on here that they had to risk the chance of one day being exposed for apparent incest rather than being exposed for premarital sex right now lmao. God forbid anything break with the wholesome system of traditional Cardassian family values.

This indicates Tain knows about Tolan’s Oralian way sympathies (and presumably pretended he shared them on some deeper level than as a useful tool when they were younger), even as he’ll hold it like a Damocles sword over his head the same way he does the existence of Mila the regnar and Palandine with Garak.

Also, again: the fact that Garak doesn’t have even weirder conceptions of romantic relationships is frankly a miracle good job Tolan and Mila for not fucking him up worse

I remembered one of the few times Tain had taken me outside the city, when he’d put me on a Cardassian riding hound. He’d held the bridle and walked me around the course. Then he’d given me the bridle and had walked next to me as the hound panted and slobbered. Then he’d said, “It’s time.” He’d slapped the hound hard, and it had taken off at full speed. But I’d hung on, though frightened by the sudden speed and surging power beneath me. Gradually I’d begun to adjust and learn to roll with the hound’s concussive undulations.

“I was never happier in my life,” I said out loud. “I turned around to wave to you, and I fell.”

Tain studied me for a long moment and nodded. “And you pulled yourself up and continued to ride. I remember.”

Im haunted. Happiest day of his life and he was five years old and his father gave him — the faintest little gesture of affection and pride and that got him for life. And actually I think this is the one time/the one relationship where Tain does the thing Garak does where he makes something that moves him an enemy in his head. So few things really move Tain emotionally that I don’t think he has to resort to that in such a savagely reactive way as Garak does most of the time, but I think that day with his son might have. And that’s what he’s never going to forgive him for.

ALSO how insidious is it that the one thing Tain is truly proud of Garak for — getting up every time he falls down and trying again, even when it hurts him and he should stop, because he knows Tain is watching him — is what allows him to keep Garak hooked all those years. It’s so messed up.

- Tain remained in his chair as I walked out of the room. I walked out into the night with my red box and all the way to the Tarlak Sector. I went to the children’s area and sat across from where Tolan and I had planted the Edosian orchids. At some point I opened the box and took out the mask. I studied the eyeless face and half expected it to talk to me, to explain why my life had become so complicated, so beyond my control. But it was obviously another “night person,” guarding its secrets. There were hooks that went over the ears, and I attached the mask to my face. I sat there and waited … but nothing was revealed. Finally the tears came.

I did warn you that this was going to recur and that it would break your heart. I warned you.

- contemplating the cursed line of thought that the mila/tain/tolan thing is a mirror of one way the palandine/barkan/garak inadvisable sandwich could have gone, if barkan were smarter and capable of less brute force methods long term ala tain. You think Garak could have ever broken away again if you handed him a kid and arranged it so that their future and happiness depended on his compliance and submission no matter what you ask of him, any more than Tolan could? Thank god Barkan is an idiot basically because being trapped between Tain and this theoretical clever Barkan’s setup would probably be even more fucking ruinous to Garak’s psyche than what’s already going on here haha

- I had done what Tain asked, and in the following years no one was as dedicated a night person as I was. I went everywhere they asked me to go and stayed as long as it took to complete the mission, but Tain never said a word that would indicate whether he was pleased or displeased. In fact, I saw very little of him, and even less of Mila. This distance from them, and the fact that I was rarely home, actually made my work easier. My primary contact at the Order was Limor Prang, who became even less expressive, if that were possible, as he grew older. I knew, however, that my dedication, and the absence of any kind of life outside of the Order, concerned him. On those occasions he’d tersely suggest that I visit Morfan Province or some such popular vacation area. I’d tell him I’d consider it, and accept another assignment… or tend to my orchids… or walk.

Why is this so funny. Limor Prang being like ‘dude tain idk about this kid he does his job real well but he literally has no hobbies but murder and gardening I think there might be something fundamentally wrong with him’ (*Tain voice* yeah I know and it took a lot of effort to fuck him up this badly don’t undo all my hard work please)

- The magic of these flowers has fascinated me from the moment I first saw them. The mysterious way they reveal themselves, layer by layer…. Just when you think they can’t get any more beautiful, that you can’t learn anything more, another layer of bloom surpasses the previous one and the orchid changes personality. Recently I have developed a new indulgence—clothing—and I know it’s because of the influence of the Edosian orchid. Each time I put on another well-designed and well-tailored suit in a fabric with depth and an aesthetic pattern, I feel like another person. One of my favorite duties is to choose what I will wear for each assignment.

AUGH I am just so FOND of him!!! One of his favorite parts of his murder job is picking out what outfits he’s going to wear!!!!! His queer little flower-loving weirdo clinical murder swag is unmatched

- I looked across the greensward, and there she was, the blue-black hair and the long, dark gray skirt flowing behind her as she chased a little girl who was giggling, trying to escape from her mother but knowing that the beauty of the game was that she wouldn’t. Half of me wanted to run after them, the other half wanted to be buried deep in the ground. Why her? Why now? With sudden clarity I saw my entire life as a defense against this very moment. I didn’t want to feel what I was feeling; I didn’t want this immense burden of desire. I had learned to be satisfied with the occasional brusque sexual contact that quenched desire the way food or water did, and to live without any expectation of that touch that transforms routine into adventure. Watching Palandine and her daughter defy gravity with their dance of love destroyed all my definitions, and my carefully maintained boundaries began to give way, for the first time since Bamarren, to the magic of limitless possibility. I knew at that moment that I’d never be satisfied again. Even my beloved orchids looked like weeds.

I watched like someone unable to avert his eyes from impending horror, as the mother ran down the daughter and gathered her up in her strong arms. They were both giggling, absolutely fulfilled in each other’s company, lighting up the grounds with their radiance.

This idea of love and intimacy being likened to wanting to be able to run, in the knowledge you’ll be safely caught and held in the end, in laughter and closeness… Come find me hiding in the place I know you’ll look first, huh. (also makes his dismissal of the act of play earlier take on some new implications haha)

- Lokar was the favorite of such powerful Cardassians as his father, Draban Lokar, and Procal Dukat, key members of the Civilian Assembly and Central Command respectively. In fact, his prefect on Terok Nor, the ore processing station, was Procal’s son, Skrain Dukat. Lokar’s ambition and his prospects had no limit. Nor, it seems, did his appetite for using and disposing of people… especially women. His tyrannical excesses, visited upon friend and foe alike, were well documented; but as long as his stewardship produced such successful results no one cared. Lokar has quickly become an integral part of the easy corruption I see and smell more and more at the highest levels of our system, and which gives the lie to our stern and moralistic facade. Perhaps, I thought, when I leave for Tzenketh tomorrow, I’ll erase all memory of the way back.

. . .

There were few pedestrians, since this was the time of the evening when families gathered after a long day of work and school: The good Cardassians. The sector reeked of rectitude and self-importance.

His growing disillusionment with all of this going on in the background. (I think he backslides massively on most of that once he’s in exile b/c like. Even when home sucks it’s still home and he’s not allowed there anymore. But in his second story in The Wire he says something like ‘the whole exercise suddenly seemed utterly meaningless’, and I think it’s that dawning ennui that’s peeking through here.)

- But the jostling and the noise only made me more aware of the loathsome self-pity I was feeling. I wanted my life to be arranged without need, to be totally self-sufficient, able to do my work for the Order and find fulfillment wherever I could—to accept my life as enough. But how could I, when my deepest involvement was with orchids?

That’s the thing the wire does that is most insidious and specifically most apt to trap him, I think — it allowed at least the illusion of total emotional self-sufficiency, divorcing all the happy brain chemicals from the vulnerability of needing someone or something else. (I mean it didn’t work, he was clearly incredibly miserable anyway, but that’s the underlying seductive logic of addiction for you)

The way he thinks of this as weakness, like it’s an underlying strain of embarrassing, undisciplined self-indulgence that runs through him, when really when you look at it closely it’s his soul fighting tooth and nail to continue to exist, even on scraps, even when it’s inconvenient to the people who would rather he strangle that thing in its cradle and submit himself fully. In The Wire this is what he seems to loathe about himself most of all. It feels so… furtive and shameful, like he keeps getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar for crumbs even as he’s starving, but like yeah thank god he managed to survive it on those crumbs, right. Me @ me through Garak: Hey maybe having any kind of emotional need is not in fact a mortal sin but maybe a sign that something within you is still alive and needs a gardener’s gentle hands to grow had you even considered that

- “It takes courage to come here, to look at things the way they once were. And while they can never be that way again, we can extract an essence that will nurture and amplify our own lives. We can strive to be better friends and live with ourselves and others with respect and the recognition that each soul desires to be reconnected with the source. To enslave or prey upon each other is not how we began. We were connected to each other. We did not experience hunger, deprivation, or loneliness. We were connected, and we cared and nurtured and loved. No, friends, it’s not how we began. But if we end in isolation and hate, not even a monument in Tarlak will ease the agony of our lost soul.”

. . .

By the time I reached the door I decided that it was all sentimental nonsense. Cardassia suffered a great climatic catastrophe—and if we hadn’t been strong and determined to adapt, we would have perished with the weak. And the weak must perish; otherwise the integrity of the race is compromised and we become the preyed-upon. Poor misguided Tolan. He was a good man but he was a gardener, and the worst thing he had ever had to do was kill weeds.

The patented Garak move of ‘oh this thing genuinely moved me? No it didn’t. And also I hate it’. (“I hate this place and I hate you”)

- “Your necropolis has become the subject of much conversation throughout the sector,” he replied. “Or is it a memorial to your former mentor?”

“It’s whatever people want it to be. It seems to give comfort to some. For me it meant bringing some order out of this chaos.”

In his deepest heart he remains the cemetery keeper’s son and I for one think that’s beautiful. Fic idea: what about necromancer garak au I think that could be fun

“You’ve heard of the movement afoot to bring in Federation methods for determining our new leadership structure?”

“No, I haven’t,” I replied without hesitating. I prayed that Parmak wouldn’t make one of his unannounced nocturnal visits.

*Gentle cackle* cue Parmak in his underwear trying desperately to be quiet as he climbs out the window in the background

I understand you’re working with a Dr. Parmak who’s very much involved with Ghemor.”

“I was assigned to his med unit. The situation makes for strange bedfellows,” I added.

“Of course.” I found it interesting, Doctor, that for some reason it would never occur to Madred that I would actually enjoy my relationship with Parmak. I had the feeling that he was making an assumption about me that was perhaps reinforced by my involvement with the Order and Tain.

Well well 👀👀👀(also ‘strange bedfellows’. Yeah we get it garak you’re hilarious fhdska)

It takes a man of incredible equanimity, emotional security and generosity of spirit to get it on with a guy who’s currently writing a 200+ page soul-baring letter to another man like it’s the one hope he sees among the ruins of your homeworld, but you know I think Parmak has what it takes and good for him honestly

Madras seemingly completely forgetting or completely dismissing that Garak is originally from the service class lol yes very well observed. Would not even occur to him to think that anyone not of his class and standing is a real person with agency and intelligence.

- One of my genuine pleasures was to pick someone in the street to follow. Part of it was to satisfy a desire I’ve had since Bamarren to move through places and among people undetected, a desire that increased significantly after seeing Palandine and her daughter. In the intervening years, I’d pick someone who looked like a walker and follow him or her as long as they walked. I’d make sure my presence was minimized and I’d take on the person’s physical carriage and behavior. After a while, once the physical mimicry felt complete, I’d also take on the thoughts and feelings of that person. In this way I not only felt connected to another, but I was divested of my own thoughts and emotions—especially the painful ones.

Y’know I would make fond fun of him for just how sad that is if I thought I had a fucking leg to stand on. As it is, though. I mean. Haven’t we all been there. Please tell me we’ve all been there. It would make me feel better if we’ve all been here. (Interesting furthering and explicit calling out of the Odo parallel too — taking on someone’s shape to try to understand and feel closer to them without it necessarily fulfilling the longing that prompted it)

- Of course, she had spotted me. It was almost as if I had begged her to.

“Elim!” Her voice was winded, exasperated, and amused. She was a magnificent athlete, and her long legs had very quickly caught up with me. I turned.

. . .

“But I suppose the fact that you were also at the Grounds and the Assembly building could be an extraordinary coincidence,” she said with a look that challenged me to come up with an answer. I couldn’t. I felt exposed and ashamed.

“I’m … sorry. I tried to be discreet.” There was no point in pursuing the deception.

“Elim, you forget—I studied with the same teachers. Old habits die hard,” she added with a self-deprecating laugh.

“I was not going to do it again,” I assured her.

“Let’s walk,” she suggested, noticing a couple coming out of a building.

. . .

“It reminds me of the enclosure at Bamarren,” I said. She laughed, and the old delight momentarily flashed.

“Yes! That’s why I love it here.” But her expression changed and she gave me a look that creased the lines in her face. “We treated you so terribly.”

“Please….” I started to say.

“We did, Elim. You know that. We believed… or at least I believed….” she stopped herself with a bitter laugh. I didn’t ask her what it was she had believed.

“That’s finished now,” I said.

“Is it?” she asked with a wry smile. “Well, that’s good news.”

“We were children, Palandine.”

“Yes, we were. Aspiring to be grownups.” She gave me that creased look again. “You were the grownup, Elim. We were only pretending.”

“Please…” I tried to stop her again.

“No! I lost you as a friend. I think you understand this … unless I’m very much mistaken.”

In acknowledging she did something awful to him and that she regrets hurting him for what turned out to be not even very good reasons, she has shown more care for him than basically every other person in his life but Tolan up until this point. The bar here is so low but at least she stepped over it when everyone else got busy trying to limbo dance that shit, it’s y’know something

“At first I didn’t know what to do. There you were, sitting like your regnar among those magnificent orchids. It unnerved me at the beginning, but after a while I looked forward to your being there … watching us.” As we held each other’s look I didn’t try to hide my conflicted feelings.

“Why did you decide to follow me today?” she asked. I struggled to find an answer. She nodded as if confirming something to herself. “Tell me, would you have ever… declared yourself to me if I hadn’t?”

“No,” I replied. She nodded again, this time with a sad acceptance. “You keep your own counsel now, don’t you? This must be very dangerous for you.”

“For us both. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you,” I added.

“No,” she smiled.

What a fucking… shoujo-ass bullshit thing to happen fhkdshfsa palandine looking at him sitting there among the orchids in his fancy lil clothes with his sad boy lil face and the wind was probably gently caressing his hair too. Of course he was irresistible to her at this point he’s basically a teenage girl’s secret heart’s perfect fantasy for a woman who’s been forced to grow calloused and resigned to the actual nightmare married life she is living

“Where do you work?”

“At the Hall of Records.”

“Doing what?” she asked.

“I’m a research analyst,” I answered.

“What kind of research do you analyze?” She was not going to be put off with vague answers.

“I’m a bureaucrat, Palandine. I no longer try to make my work sound interesting. The best part is that I travel a great deal to gather data on population shifts—births, deaths. Most of my work is statistical analysis—making sure the facts match the reports we receive.” I delivered this with appropriate flatness.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“I like the travel,” I answered. Her face was now a grimace.

I’m just a little research analyst/tailor/gardener ma’am…

I could see that she was upset by what she perceived as my fall from grace. Promising young man forced by circumstances to live the life of a lonely functionary.

R U sure that’s what she’s thinking Garak. R U really underestimating her again so soon. Also she’s trying so hard to flirt with you, Julian’s obliviousness is revenge for this

“Do you still hate him?” she asked.

“Hate’s a strong word.”

“But we’re all capable of feeling it, Elim. How do you feel about me?” she asked with a direct simplicity that went through my body like electric shock. The churning I experienced earlier at the Tarlak Grounds returned. I was afraid to answer. She nodded again with resignation. This time she had completely misread my thoughts. I realized that she not only expected my hate, but accepted it. She stood up and seemed smaller.

“This wasn’t such a good idea after all, was it?” And when had she ended so many of her sentences with a question?

“What happened to you?” I asked sincerely. “You were the most confident person I’d ever known. Even when you made the decision at Bamarren there was no doubt—no apology.” Her eyes suddenly fractured and tears filled the cracks. “Do you think I followed you because I hate you?”

She couldn’t answer. She just stood there shivering. I moved to her to hold her, and she didn’t resist. She didn’t move. She let me put my arms around her and draw her vibrating body to mine. The touch, the feel of her against my body was something I had never expected to experience outside my imagination. For the first time since Bamarren, I wanted to expand my presence, to feel everything that was coming through this moment and joining us. Inexplicably, I had a sudden vision of the Guide, the woman from the meeting.

“This is our secret, Elim,” Palandine whispered.

“Yes,” I answered. “Our secret.” Another one. But it didn’t feel like it would poison me.

‘And when had she ended so many of her sentences with a question’. Oh Palandine :’(

The fact that he can try to deny his own needs for decades and then break completely the moment someone he loves needs something from him. Yeah that’s probably the big weak spot for him huh. I guess Tain was mostly gambling that his needs would always get first priority in the end

Also: Palandine saying everyone is capable of hate, and Tain claiming later on that he doesn’t hate anyone even as he’s throwing a party that Merrok is dead. Very Interesting.

Garak apparently writes poetry about Palandine during this time, btw. *through tears* he’s such a SAP.

This pattern he has of interpersonally of a sort of… hide and seek, ‘Please come find me, please track me down, I’m leaving you a trail of breadcrumbs and truth-telling lies and hope and I’ll make it so easy for you to connect the dots it’s kind of pathetic on my part but who needs dignity anyway’… it’s so clumsy and child-like and full of both longing and fear. He’s TRYING but he doesn’t know any better way to do it yet. And especially with Julian, that’s where part of the misunderstanding/misalignment between them comes in, I feel, when the uh ‘signals to play’ as it were start to get muddled. ‘He doesn’t really tell me what he’s thinking’. And then he goes and writes a whole book to Julian to let him in on exactly what he’s thinking fjdsjfak truly, a man who does not do anything by halves

Somehow it also seems kind of healing that the potential for being found without anything having to be kept secret is finally, finally on the table, if (when, I know this in my heart literally what does canon even know if it disagrees it is quite simply wrong) Julian takes him up on the invitation.

#a stitch in time #asit #elim garak #star trek #star trek ds9 #ds9 #The great ASIT first read adventure #ds9 meta #garashir #julian bashir

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hermitcrossovers · 1 year ago

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So fun fact I'm currently avoiding doing my greek school work to write this haha

Anyways on to the other parts of the plot!

So Empires is another island, with nine ruling clans (I took out Pearl, Jimmy, and Gem's kingdoms due to plot). This is where most of the Emperors come from, they are the children of these leaders.

Pearl and Jimmy ended up on the island when Jimmy was thirteen and Pearl was fourteen. Jimmy had been sent by the Listeners, while Pearl had shipwrecked after escaping the Watchers.

Most of the Emperors are just kinda chilling. They're living their lives and learning how to hunt dragons and keep their island safe.

There's only one problem, the island has a history of sacrificing misbehaving children to a nearby island filled with the worst and most deadly dragons.

Everything changes when a masked figure starts attacking, claiming to control the deathgrippers. They say their name is Xornoth, and they know the secrets of the island.

Of course, they do. After all, Xornoth is the only surviving child who was sacrificed. They want revenge for their friends, and to get rid of their parents once and for all.

Oh, and they're Scott's older sibling. Scott doesn't know about this.

So, when Xornoth starts threatening Scott's island, he (very blind to the truth, because sheltered upbringings will do that to you) decides to leave and seek out somebody who could help. Jimmy offers to come along, and Scott says yes, because Jimmy could be useful, not at all because Scott has a crush on him. Totally.

They end up sailing for a few days, before being scooped up by Grian, who is overjoyed to see one of his old friends again. And to have somebody who isn't Scar around.

I should note this happens before Grian finds out BigB and Martyn are alive.

Now, meanwhile with the Crastle crew:

Cleo is about to pull her hair out, because why are they stuck with this gremlin of a teenager. All she wants to do is go home for once, not be stuck on this random island after getting blown off course in a storm.

Bdubs is having a great time! He's finally got another person on the island besides himself, and shes great! He swears he'll protect her forever, because she can get him off the island. It's been a long two years after all.

Impulse has zero idea what's going on. He and Tango were out looking for Skizz one minute, exploring an island and getting jumped on by a feral teenager and a redhead who has a knife the next. He's pretty sure he wants to go home.

Tango has given up trying to understand anything. He's just listening to Cleo and Bdubs argue about what to do with him and Impulse, so he offers to help them work on a ship in exchange for their freedom after the ship is built. That seems to work.

-------

I'm still working out most of the details but here's a list of dragons + the answer to your question:

Yes Evo is abandoned but sort of intact! However it's been pretty ravaged and needs a few years before most plants grow back, as a lightning storm that ended up making the forests catching fire happened shortly after the Watchers took and/or killed everybody.

Jimmy - a yellow razorwhip named Canary!

Scott - a red whispering death named Poppy

Bdubs - a snaptrapper named Mossy as a collective, and a terrible terror named Shrub

Cloe - a bonenapper named Bones, and she later gets a screaming death named Screamy

Impulse - a yellow and black windwalker named Ssvee

Tango - a rumblehorn named Ravager!

Joel - a pack of small shadows (you might notice I haven't done much with Joel yet, that's because I'm trying to figure out what he's even doing) - 🔮🐦 (magic bird anon)

I swear I had already answered this 💀💀

First off! The crastle vibes are on point, and Cleo with a bonenapper is just perfect, honestly I feel like she would absolutely gather bones to give to Bones lol.

Second... the empires guys are in for so much hurt, plus sailor Jimmy and Scot is now stuck in my head.

I love how you're weaving in the different servers together.

-Mod Jer

#hermitcraft #empires smp #how to train your dragon #grian #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #xornoth #zombie cleo #bdubs #impulsesv #tangotek #skizzleman #magic bird anon

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my-my-my · 2 years ago

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What if for this reader aizen genuinely truly loves her and she accepts him for who he is

Was thinking soulking au where he’s soulking and he decides to propose to her

Fluff plz

Female reader

Sure, thanks for the request!

TW: none, just fluff! Soul King Aizen is however you imagine him to be.

Numerous thoughts drifted through Aizen’s mind as he watched you guide reborn souls into his kingdom. No, it was your kingdom too. There was a quiet sense of pride in his eyes as you welcomed everyone to their new home.

It was never made official – from the time he defeated the Gotei 13, to crushing the Royal Guards, you were there by his side, aiding him and fighting along with him. There was no urgency to propose. Why propose when eternity waited for you two?

He thought there would be plenty of time to have a formal proposal. One said with words, and not subtle actions.

Aizen left you alone, deciding to walk amongst the gardens the two of you created. Blooming bushes of roses and shrubs of hydrangeas awaited him, while the branches laden heavy with wisteria, danced in the light breeze. The garden was Aizen’s favourite part of the entire realm you two shared. Initially Aizen wanted the garden to be just for the two of you, but you argued on behalf of the souls entering, that this was everyone’s shared paradise, and so he relented.

Aizen mingled with the souls prattling about. They would give a gentle nod to him as he walked by. Many of them referred to him as Lord Aizen, and you his Lady, but the two of you were not interested in formalities. Yet some old habits die hard, and the souls that came through the realm held the two of you in high regard.

Aizen entered a more secluded area of the garden, where bushels of stargazer lilies were in abundance. The garden shaped and shifted to the whim of you two, but this area was remained relatively untouched since its creation. Aizen inspected a few blossoms that were lost some petals – the two of you agreed that life and death were necessary to continue. Souls could die here, even the two of us he thought.

A soft frown crossed his face as that thought came to him. Eternity wasn’t necessarily guaranteed – he knew that, and you knew that. The two of you were immortal, but the universe in its entirety held many secrets that intrigued Aizen. Could the hogyoku take his immortality away? Could another being, greater, stronger, than the two of you, enter the kingdom and erase you from existence?

It was fear – fear that pushed Aizen to constantly evolve and learn. And a fear that made you learn to adapt, evolve, and grow alongside him. You were of the same mind as him – there was no need to be stagnant with an ever-changing world.

Aizen snapped the flower off from its stem, ending its life. The garden was an area of beauty, but a constant reminder to the two of you that nothing was forever.

Except his love for you.

Aizen took one last look at the lilies, sensing your presence approaching him.

“I never took you much as a gardener, Sosuke.” You laughed as you grabbed his hand. Aizen was a man of many masks and personas, but he was never one to act on half-measures. This garden, this kingdom and realm, were proof of that.

You gave him a smile as Aizen squeezed your hand in reassurance, it was then he pulled your left hand towards him.

Aizen brough your hand to his lips and whispered the quietest of incantations, words you barely recognized, until a solid band was wrapped around your ring finger. He kissed your hand again and pulled you closer to him.

“I want this ring to be a physical reminder of my devotion to you, my love.” Aizen said softly, and continued with a gentle smile, “our kingdom wouldn’t be the same without its queen after all.”

#aizen sosuke #aizen sousuke #sousuke aizen #sosuke aizen #bleach #answered #bleach writings #a writes

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daphnebowen · 1 year ago

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season four notes episode 1

omg… season four came out over a week ago now??? and I’m still crying.

some things I would like to talk about, episode one edition:

“Troy and Gabriella have been silent in the group chat” literally my friends 💀

STOP WHO IS THAT AND WHY ARE THEY KISSING GINA~ omg it’s Matt sato 😟 RICKY IN GLASSES HELPP

oh two months earlier phew

STOP WHY DID RICKYS DAD HAVE TO MAKE IT AWKWARD- “I’m dating her. She’s my girlfriend.”

the way Richard said “yeah, I always buckle up, look both ways- oHh 😮 yOu MeAn-“ yes Richard you are in high school now please be for real

the hug when Ricky climbed in thru the window and Gina ran over to him- AHHHH 😍

okay, but “maybe this time” is actually one of my favorite songs from the whole freaking series. Their chemistry is OFF THE CHARTS!! and when the flashbacks happened? 🫢 had me DEAD.

WHEN HE RUNS BACK OVER FOR ONE LAST KISS SQUEEEEE

how Gina is all “bye Ricky 🤭🥰” blushing and giggling she can’t believe rina is real NEITHER CAN I GIRL NEITHER CAN I!!

Okay but the secret relationship thing is giving me trauma already~ this is not gonna go well

i hate Gina’s mom already

mack annoys the crap out of me

dani slayed that song

JEALOUS RICKY IS BREAKING MY HEART I JUST WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY but at the same time he needs to calm down

”high school musicale??”

when they’re “secretly” holding hands PLEASE

when Ashlyn and Maddox are giving each other relationship advice omg like how RICKY AND GINA DID THE SAME?!?!?! Come ONNNN madlyn ENDGAME

Ricky and Gina looking at each other just confirms what we’ve been knowing since season one

Emmy really wants to spill the tea about her mom huh 😂

WHY DOES RICKY NOT KNOW WHO BART JOHNSON IS IM CRYING

okay but Ashlyn being on her phone during the pep rally is soooo high school and soooo annoying I would snatch that phone and throw it away (not really, but wtv)

mark and spark?????? I have a million questions. Like why is there 617 freaking episodes???? about a dog. and his owner. What??

“Woke” is ABSOLUTELY CRAZY I got second hand embarrassment from that 💀 Matt sato is giving

when everyone but Ricky gives Dani a standing ovation 😶

ashlyn is allergic to shrubs?? And she just came back from summer camp?? In the woods? Help?

OMG CORBIN BLUH

the fact that they call Monique “mo” is absolutely adorable SHE LOOKS SO PRETTY FIGHT ME

LUCAS IS HAVING TWINSSSS

rickys face when Ashlyn is talking about the “single” Gina who has had a crush on Mack since childhood has me dead on the floor 💀 ASHLYN WHY YOU GOTTA DO THAT TO MY MAN RICKY

i really want Ricky and Gina to be Troy and Gabriella it’s gotta happen right?? I mean the promos and trailer had that picture from opening night all over it…

miss Jenn is the freaking best! Although I have a feeling this movie business is gonna get in the way of her high school musical three dreams… Quinn is already moving into her office and throwing out her plants like help??

#hsmtmts #gina porter #ricky bowen #rina #ricky x gina #hsm

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werewolfulrich · 3 years ago

Text

Too Many Treats

Gretchen has created a monster! Wait...he already was a monster.

One night on a lowly blue rock in the middle of deep space, a city full of incompetent lifeforms, that despite all odds became the dominant species of the planet, hustle and bustle in their disgusting, polluted, and overpopulated metropolis. In one of the surrounding neighborhoods of the city, the household of a magenta-haired girl stands in between oddly shaped houses. The girl’s house has a strange, round construction similar to the other weird homes in her neighborhood; curved metallic roofing, circular and oval shaped windows, and a front door with a pet door installed for her many pets. The home had a greyish dull color to it in the moonlight, but the lights shining brightly from inside reflecting on the shrubs in the front garden gave a warm lived-in feel to the domicile. Behind the closed doors of the house, the girl’s voice echoed throughout the hallways, originating from the living room furnished with blue sofas, a widescreen television, and a turquoise rug in the middle of the cyan-colored tile flooring. Her voice was accompanied by canine panting sounds and rustling on the rug.

“Good boy!” She said in an encouraging tone.

The girl in a striped, hooded dress tossed a bone-shaped dog biscuit from a bag at the small creature performing tricks on the rug for her, which caught it in the air. Normally, a preteen girl would have an ordinary dog do tricks for treats, but not tonight. Tonight, she technically had a friend over, and that is the most her hardworking parents will ever know. Her mother and father, who were both working night shifts this evening, will never comprehend the truth about their daughter's friend, but her brother does. He found it difficult to trust his sister’s weird friend as he wonders when the night will be when her friend finally snaps and devours them both. He has seen the movies; boys like this are always trouble. During the day, the boy is sweet and compassionate, but come nightfall, he becomes something inhuman. A savage beast. A monster.

“You’re being so good tonight, Dibbers!” The green-eyed girl gave a rewarding pat on the head of the creature.

Her brother watched her from the entrance to the kitchen. She was petting the spiky hair of the beast as if it was one of their animals. He feared the worst could happen at any moment, “Gretchen, I can’t believe you treat this thing as if it’s a dog.” He warned her, “Sooner or later, he’s going to think your hand is a biscuit.”

Gretchen looked back at him with an annoyed expression. She had no idea why her brother was so distrustful of her friend when he has done nothing but be kind and gentle in this form, “Duncan, do you ever get tired of worrying over nothing?”

“Over nothing?” Duncan asked in disbelief of her laid-back demeanor, “You’re petting a werewolf, Gretchen.”

He was right; she was petting a werewolf. A werewolf whose true identity was Dib Membrane; a boy who was never quite normal even before he was cursed. Before, Duncan could laugh at Gretchen’s crush on the infamous weird kid, but now, ever since he found out Dib’s secret, Duncan was afraid the wolf boy would literally steal her heart...and eat it. However, at the moment, Dib was only interested in the bag of treats Gretchen had been giving him. He did trick after trick for the delicious, crunchy bones. He joyfully wagged his tail. Since he started visiting Gretchen, he’s never felt happier. She gave him the love and attention he lacked back at his family home.

His father, the great Professor Membrane, was always busy curing diseases and building incredible machines to solve the world’s problems. He barely paid much attention to his own son. Even when Dib first realized he had become a werewolf, his father merely dismissed it as puberty. When Membrane has the chance to see his son’s other self, he thinks Dib is wearing a costume. Worse still, he can sometimes mistake him for the lost puppy that Dib and Gaz once had. Dib eventually gave up trying to convince his dad as he did shutter at the thought of his dad wanting to perform horrible tests on him just as Dib wants to do to his mortal enemy, Zim.

As for his sister, Gaz, she could care less about what happened to her brother. After all, he’s nothing but a screwup; he was bound to be afflicted with some paranormal curse at some point, she thought. In some ways, Gaz appreciated Dib’s wild side. It made him less of a pushover and usually gave her the house all to herself when he escaped into the night. No more Dib giving her an earful with his nightly rants about his next plan to expose Zim. No more having to sit through Mysterious Mysteries blaring on the TV every night. No more Zim breaking into the house at midnight to destroy Dib in his next dumb scheme; now, Zim is more likely to take on Dib out in the elements. Unfortunately, Dib is more daring as a werewolf, and he will still want to steal her food or break her possessions right in front of her face. Her normal intimidation tactics don’t work on the wolf so most of the time, she must resort to spraying him with a spray bottle or physically pulling her stuff away from him. The number of times her father has had to repair her chewed up Game Slave 4 is unreal. There are times when Gaz wishes things would go back to normal and Dib could cure himself, but as long as Gretchen and Zim are around to take up his time, Gaz won’t complain too much.

Speaking of Zim, the alien invader realized that things have never been the same since Dib suddenly transformed into this horrible, slobbery, filthy, fur-beast. Although his minions, GIR and Minimoose, seem to get along with him, Zim would never get the same treatment from the feral Dibwolf creature. Ever since Dib was mutated somehow, Zim has become a victim of his carnivorous lunar activities. If the Dibwolf so much as gets a whiff of his scent, the hunt was on, and Zim is doomed to a vicious mauling. Thankfully for Zim, lycanthropy is a human curse, and his superior Irken body is not affected by the werewolf’s bites. Nonetheless, the many pak legs, wigs, and uniforms Zim has had to replace is daunting. Regardless, Zim will never give up the fight, but neither will Dib, and that means Zim must find a way to destroy Dib now more than ever. To make matters worse, Dib also has a partner of sorts...that metal tooth human, Gretchen. Her interference with his plans is almost as bad as the attacks from the Dibwolf, but to Zim, Gretchen is but a thorn in his squeedily spooch; the real menace is the Dib-monster. Gretchen is a thorn, but Dib would rip out his squeedily spooch if given the chance, wolf or not. To complete his mission, Dib must be destroyed, some way, somehow...

Despite the ongoing threat of an alien invasion...Gretchen would prefer to just hang out with Dib whenever she can instead of constantly plotting to defeat Zim like human Dib would. She developed a crush on the boy months ago after the lice queen incident at the skool. Dib was the only one to fully rebel against the Countess von Verminstrasser or the “Lice Nazi” as the other kids called her. Gretchen did not like that woman; for some reason, the Countess really liked shouting her crazy theories at Gretchen and freaking out the poor girl. She literally dragged Gretchen around and nearly got her killed. Although the Countess was right about there being a giant louse, Gretchen always admired Dib’s ability to question everything and wonder what was really going on…and she thought he was cute. His shimmering brown eyes, the glasses, the hair that defies gravity, the almost bad boy gothic attire…he looked like a nerd trying really hard to be cool, but he was a cute nerd. However, his status as the creepy kid kept her from reaching out to him as she was a social outcast herself; always labeled as a reject. For a long time, she felt like she had to try to fit in with the other kids and laugh at Dib or be further rejected socially. Then there was the whole Zim being an alien thing… Gretchen always knew there was something strange about the green kid, but she pretended that she didn’t believe Dib to save herself the shame. Everyone knows that Dib and Zim always fight, and Gretchen didn’t want to get between those two and their bickering…but maybe…just maybe…if Gretchen could get Dib to notice her, she can find out more about him and why he’s the way he is. Dib was always mysterious, especially with that dashing trench coat he wore. Eventually she thought, so what if people think she’s weird? They already think that, and Dib doesn’t deserve to get treated the way he does. It was time to let him know that she liked him, and she thought of the perfect day to do that: Valentine’s Day.

Well, it didn’t work out the way she wanted. Some new girl showed up and ruined everything, and Gretchen cried her eyes out when she was ignored. After that, she almost gave up on telling Dib how she felt, but her heart wouldn’t forget him. She later overheard Dib and Zim say that the new girl wasn’t a girl after all, but another alien like Zim, and she was never Dib’s friend. Soon, Gretchen was emboldened enough to try a new way of getting his attention, which was talking to him. She started saying “hi” to him and giving him compliments even though she was socially awkward, but she kept trying. Despite this, progress was slow; Dib barely noticed her but at least he said, “hi, Gretchen” back to her a couple of times. She will never forget the first time he said that to her. He was in a rush to chase after Zim that day, but he still said it to her! It was that day when she knew the feeling of walking on air was true. She skipped and danced all the way back home. He said hi! And he remembered her name! Since then, Dib and Gretchen spoke more frequently, and also had a few disagreements, like when Dib didn’t believe her “Ms. Bitters is a giant bug” theory, but they were finally talking. Over time, she changed her hair style, got new clothes, some alien earrings, and a glow-in-the-dark ghost necklace to boost her confidence and get closer to Dib. Gretchen did find out more about him; he was a bit eccentric, but he is nice if you gave him a chance. Nevertheless, things really changed one faithful day when Gretchen noticed Dib was acting weird in a way she had never seen before. She did her own paranormal investigation on her own crush and ultimately found out that the boy she was in love with was turned into a paranormal creature himself. However, even though Gretchen was afraid for the first few nights when getting to know the new werewolf, and Dib warned her to stay away from him, Gretchen never gave up on the wolf and showed him kindness and affection. Soon, he trusted her, and he went from a lone wolf, both figuratively and literally, to a friend and caring about her. This curse is what grew her relationship with Dib, and she got what she wanted: her crush noticing her and liking her back.

On the other hand, her brother, Duncan, was not too thrilled about their relationship. He is protective of his sister and is suspicious of this werewolf boy who he knows has the power to kill them both with his bare hands…or claws. He has no idea why his sister is crushing on him. He’s not just a werewolf, he’s the kid who keeps getting arrested, blowing stuff up, and somehow managing to cut the power to the whole city more than once. Duncan remembers Gretchen said that Dib raised the dead too. It’s insane to think that this one kid is fighting all these supernatural beings, and now, he’s bringing his sister into this. What they do the most is trying to stop Zim and his “evil plans.” He overhears when they talk about spying on Zim and collecting paranormal evidence; it’s almost impossible not to overhear it since Dib yells so much. While Duncan believes that Zim is an alien, like Gaz, he would rather do his own thing. Besides, Zim has been here for how long? And he still has not conquered the planet. There was that one time he teleported the planet into this “Florpus hole” thing Dib mentioned before, but the planet was saved in the end so whatever. Duncan wants to think that it all works out in the end, but he can’t help but feel protective of his little sister now that she is hanging out with the “crazy” kid. Well, he knows now that Dib is not totally crazy and is right about some things, but Dib is still somewhat crazy for wanting to chase after and capture cryptids and aliens even though he’s a twelve-year-old kid...and he’s dragging Gretchen along with him. Duncan should’ve seen the warning signs when Gretchen started believing her teacher was a giant bug woman.

“Okay Dib, sit!” Gretchen offered another biscuit.

Dib did as he was told for the tasty treats that he cannot get enough of.

“Good boy!” Gretchen tossed the bone.

Dib caught the treat in the air with the sound of his jaws snapping shut. A sign of his bite force being stronger than any dog. Duncan shivered at that sound, yet the sight of a werewolf doing tricks was funny to him, “Can he play dead?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Of course, he can.” Gretchen replied, “Dib, play dead!”

The bespectacled boy lay on the ground with his eyes closed and his tongue sticking out.

“Good boy!” Gretchen said for what seemed to be the twentieth time that night. She has fed him many treats for quite a while. Dib got up and begged for the treat with his paws up while Gretchen reached further in the bag for a biscuit. Once she threw one out, Dib wasted no time eating it. Gretchen looked over at Duncan and took out a bone, “You try!”

Duncan snickered and walked over, “Okay.” He took the bone and watched Dib walk over to him and beg. With his tail wagging and his shining puppy dog eyes, he was almost cute...for a hairy monster... “Do a spin.” Duncan told him while waving the treat in a circular fashion over his head. Dib obeyed and walked in a circle on all fours before begging patiently for his reward. Duncan was impressed that he listened to him, “Wow,” he glanced back at Gretchen, forgetting to toss the treat, “maybe you can teach him to stop howling on the roof at 3AM,” Dib was waiting for his biscuit, but Duncan was still not giving it to him even though he had done what he was told. Duncan kept talking to Gretchen, “or to stop digging holes in the yard.” Dib’s toothy smile disappeared as he lost his patience, and he scowled at Duncan. The teenage boy barely had time to react when Dib snarled and snapped at him, stomping his front paws on the ground. It sounded as intimidating as a chihuahua’s snarl, but it spooked Duncan enough to fall back on his behind with a shriek. He dropped the biscuit and Dib quickly snatched it up and ate it.

Gretchen was not surprised, “You’re supposed to give him his treat.”

Duncan looked irritated again, “Geez, he’s a greedy little bastard.” He stood up and got away from the feisty furball.

With Dib’s attention back on his favorite human, his panting and tail wags began again. Gretchen smiled back at him and asked in her cheery voice, “You want another treat?” Dib nodded; one of the only ways he could still communicate in human language, “Okay, roll over!” The wolf boy did exactly that and sat up for his treat. Gretchen was still digging into the bag, but it was empty, “Uh oh, that was all of them.” Dib whined; he was expecting another tasty bone.

“You gave him all those biscuits?” Duncan asked, looking away from his phone, “That was a new bag for the real dogs! Not this tiny terror.” He points at Dib, who looks back at him and makes a soft growl at hearing what Duncan called him.

Gretchen retorts, “Hey, he’s been a very good boy lately, and he loves these treats. I say he deserved them all.” She crumpled up the bag, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you something better!” She reassured Dib and walked into the kitchen with him following her, his claws tapping against the tiles. Gretchen opened the pantry, “Let’s see what we’ve got here... Oh!” She takes out a box and shows it to Dib, “Cookies!” He gets excited and wags his tail.

“You’re going to give him those? Can werewolves eat chocolate?” Duncan asked. He watched with anxiety as his sister offered the cookie so close to the werewolf’s jaws, but Dib gently took the cookie out of her hand.

“He’s been eating them for the last two weeks, so I think so.” Gretchen shrugged at her brother.

“So that’s where they’ve all gone...” Duncan had wondered why they kept running out of cookies so fast.

Dib swallowed the cookie but wanted more. He tapped Gretchen’s leg and whined. She looked down at him, “Oh, you want some more?” She poured some cookies out of the box onto the white kitchen tiles and Dib quickly began munching on them.

“Hey, you’re not going to give him all of those too, are you?” Duncan asked.

“But he likes them! Would you rather he be chewing on your shoes again?” Gretchen did have a point. Since she’s been giving Dib more treats, he’s been chewing on random things less often. Dib finished his pile of cookies with a slight hiccup. He wagged his tail, ready for more.

Days later, outside of their skool, Dib and Gretchen are walking home.

“Have you noticed that the vampire gerbil in the biology room has grey fur?” Dib asked Gretchen as they walked down the sidewalk, “According to my research, vampire gerbils typically have black fur. This might be a rare specimen we have here!”

“Hmm, it could be.” Gretchen said. “What if it’s a new species of vampire gerbil?”

“Man, that would be really neat.” Dib hoped one day they would get permission to take the gerbil with them to study it, but so far, the teachers aren’t onboard with the idea. Maybe when they lower the security in the biology room, they can finally get a chance to steal the bloodthirsty rodent.

Gretchen usually just listens to Dib talk until they get to their neighborhood, but sometimes their time together is ruined by a certain alien, but hopefully not toda-

“Hello, inferior Earth monkeys!!” The shrill sound of an evil alien’s laughter rang in their ears. Dib and Gretchen stopped in their tracks as Zim jumped in front of them from behind the corner of a fence, “I have come to announce my greatest plan for world conquest!”

“But then we’ll know what you’re doing...” Gretchen said.

“That’s what he wants.” Dib was apathetic to whatever Zim was planning if it’s one of those plans that he’s already revealing to them before he has even done anything. Those schemes Zim gets so excited about are always the lamest ones. Despite this, Dib played along. One can never be too sure... “What are you up to this time, Zim?”

“I have developed a serum that will make humans explode!!” Zim took out a vial full of blue glowing liquid from his pak.

“Another exploding plan...fuuun,” Dib didn’t even try to sound interested, “and how are you going to make people explode with that stuff?”

“I’m glad you asked, Dib-filth.” Zim pompously held the vial up high, “I am going to spill this serum all over the skool cafeteria food and watch you all blow up like meat firecrackers once you consume it!”

Dib rolled his eyes, “Zim, that’s stupid. No one’s going to eat blue glowing food.”

“Willy might eat it.” Gretchen told Dib.

“Okay, Willy might,” Dib realized that was a possibility, “but he’s like the only one. Your plan is still stupid, and you’ll never get away with it!” He pointed at the green invader.

“You’ll never stop me, Dib!” Zim ignored everything they said, “This entire planet will be soaking in human juice when I’m through with your disgusting species, thanks to this!” He taunted Dib by holding the blue vial in front of his face.

“Give me that!” Dib attempted to snatch the vial out of Zim’s hands, but he wasn’t quick enough. Zim pulled it away and stuck out his worm-like tongue at him before running off. Dib chased after him for that serum. Gretchen sighed and ran after them. Of course, this happens right when Dib and she were sharing a moment conversing about vampire gerbils. Dib chased Zim down a few blocks, but the alien sprinted too far ahead at this point. The scythe-haired boy was already out of breath and could not catch up to him.

The bug-like alien glanced back at his nemesis falling behind and laughed, “Seeya, Dib!!” Zim turned a corner and disappeared. There was no way of catching him now.

Dib huffed as he finally reached the corner of the block and leaned on his knees, trying to catch his breath, “Since when did...Zim get so fast...?”

Gretchen appeared shortly behind him, “What happened?” She wasn’t out of breath yet, “You already lost him?”

Dib wiped some sweat off his forehead, “I guess I’m not on my A game today.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Gretchen put him at ease, “This plan is one of the dumbest ones I’ve heard yet.”

“You’re right.” Dib agreed, “Besides, Zim’s going to need a lot more than a test tube of explodey-junk to win.”

As time went by, Dib appeared to be right. Zim didn’t try using his blue serum on the skool cafeteria food. Perhaps he already forgot his plan as that does seem to happen to him a lot. That or he was never able to make enough of the liquid for his plan. Luckily for Dib and Gretchen, Zim is usually extremely incompetent or unlucky. The reason could even be as simple as his evil robot dog drinking the chemical and exploding. That robot always finds some way to explode. Whatever the reason, it did not matter to Gretchen or Dib tonight as they were spending yet another night together at Gretchen’s house. Duncan had McMeaties delivered for dinner that night as he didn’t feel like cooking, but he didn’t expect to have ordered most of it for a monster.

“Gretchen, that food is for you.” Duncan told his sister as they were sitting at the kitchen table having their dinner, or at least, Duncan was having his dinner. Gretchen was too busy throwing scraps for Dib.

“Aww, but he loves it.” Gretchen threw a fry and Dib caught it in the air. She was amazed at how he always caught the food.

“He loves to eat anything, even humans, I’m sure.” Duncan said while dipping a fry in ketchup.

“That’s not true, he doesn’t like bologna.” Gretchen took her cheeseburger and took a bite, but she also secretly tore a piece off under the table and fed it to Dib, who eagerly took it out of her hand.

“Gretchen...” Duncan knows what she’s doing.

“What?” She looked up at him.

“C’mon,” Duncan was tired of telling her to stop feeding the werewolf, “you already gave him some kibble earlier, he doesn’t need anymore.” He ate a fry, “And if you keep giving him more, he’s just going to want more.”

“I stop giving him treats if he doesn’t want anymore.”

“He never doesn’t want anymore. He’s a bottomless pit.”

“No, he isn’t!” Gretchen retorted. Just to defy her brother for saying that, she tossed a chicken nugget at Dib, who caught it instantly, “When he’s being good, he gets a treat.”

Duncan looked down at the little furball happily wagging his tail while chewing on the nugget. He noticed how pudgy in the midsection the creature was getting, “But he’s always being good to you...”

Many days go by, and Dib and Gretchen are having their skool lunch in the cafeteria. They sit together on a table in a corner far away from the other kids. Nobody wanted to sit next to the “reject” and the “creepy kid.” However, that didn’t bother them; they had each other and they enjoyed their company. Gretchen tried to eat the smelly beans and rice, but the mystery meat was something she could not stomach. Meanwhile, Dib rested his head in his hand and was only picking at his food…or rather what the skool considered to be food…

“You’re not eating?” Gretchen asked him.

“I’m not hungry.” Dib had felt a loss of appetite for days now, but he wasn’t too worried about it. Being able to skip skool lunches was actually a positive for him. What worried him was his loss of energy when chasing Zim. That space bug was starting to get arrogant...well, more arrogant than usual, about being faster than him. Dib still managed to trip him up and win some slap fights when they squabbled, though.

“Why?” Gretchen asked with a hint of sarcasm, “Is your food glowing blue?” She chuckled, remembering a while ago Zim had made an empty threat, “Remember when Zim said he was going to make people explode with alien goo? I wonder whatever happened to that plan.”

Now it was Dib’s turn to snicker, “Yeah, he gets like that sometimes.” He recalled many times Zim bragged about a plan that never came to fruition, “Once, he said he had laser weasels ready to zap everybody but that never went anywhere.”

“Laser weasels?” Gretchen was about to put together a picture of what a laser weasel would look like when the ear-piercing sound of Zim’s voice was heard.

“Stink beasts!!” Zim appeared beside Dib, “Are you enjoying your untainted Earth nutrients?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s tainted.” Dib answered Zim’s obvious rhetorical question. He totally came over in an attempt to terrorize them somehow.

“Enjoy it now, Dib!” Zim had a wicked grin on his face, “For soon, you and your fellow human filthies will explode from my ingenious evil plan!”

“You’re still with the explodey blue stuff?” Dib asked.

“Of course, I am!” Zim spat, “It’s just that the serum is highly unstable and very hard to produce, and GIR keeps trying to-” He shut his eyes and growled in frustration. He was revealing too much to the enemy, “Just know that your destruction is inevitable, Dib-monster!”

“We already know what you’re planning…” Gretchen said, “If you really wanted to destroy us, why don’t you-”

“Don’t give him ideas.” Dib interrupted her, “Listen Zim, you’re only embarrassing yourself with your lame attempts at scaring us, so just back off, you lizard!”

“I will never back the off, Dookie Dib!” Zim ironically took a few steps back, “You won’t defeat me this time! Especially now with your frail, goopy body becoming weak and useless again!” Zim took off running knowing that Dib wouldn’t catch him, not that he wanted to.

“Goopy?” Dib remembered these insults from when Zim went into hiding and Dib fused to his chair from not showering or even moving from his desk. It didn’t help that he also put on weight from eating nothing but junk food that whole time. He looked down at himself. Weak and useless? No…he couldn’t be. Just because he couldn’t run as far anymore doesn’t mean he’s…

“Dib, what’s wrong?” Gretchen snapped Dib out of his train of thought.

“Um, nothing.” Dib answered. He looked towards the alien sitting at his lonely table and scowled. He grabbed a handful of beans, “Check this out.” He threw them at Zim on the other side of the cafeteria with impeccable accuracy. He had been throwing stuff at Zim for a long time; he had plenty of practice. A loud scream and curses echoed throughout the room, making Gretchen laugh and Dib sneer in satisfaction.

That night at Gretchen’s house, Dib is spending time with his girl again. It had quickly become his favorite place to hang out as a wolf for obvious reasons. Tonight, Gretchen is treating him with a chocolate ice cream bar. They were both sitting on the sofa in the living room. It was a good thing Dib licked the ice cream so fast that it did not have a chance to drip on the couch.

Duncan walked into the room with a bologna sandwich and saw what Gretchen was doing, “You better not be sharing that.” He sat on the other side of the couch and took a bite out of his sandwich. He tried to sit as far away from the werewolf as possible since the monster was sitting in the middle.

“Nope, it’s all his.” Gretchen said, referring to the ice cream. Dib bit off the remaining ice cream, crunching up the popsicle stick in the process, but that didn’t scare her. “Done?” Gretchen got up to throw away the splintered stick, leaving Dib alone with Duncan. He licked the ice cream off his lips and looked at the teenage boy.

“What are you looking at?” Duncan locked eyes with him. He always felt uncomfortable being alone with the tiny, and now slightly chubby, lycanthrope. He then noticed that the wolf boy was actually looking at his sandwich. Dib walked up closer to him on all fours on the cushions, sniffing at the bologna. Duncan leaned away and was about to shout at him to get back, but the werewolf had already chomped on his sandwich, “Hey!!” He yelled, and even though he had a firm grip on the bread, Dib ripped it away easily and jumped on the floor with his stolen sandwich. As the fuzzy beast ate his quick meal on the ground near his shoes, Duncan stared in surprise. Gretchen walks back into the room and sees what had happened and was rather surprised herself. Duncan was ticked off now, “What the hell? I thought he didn’t like bologna!”

“I thought so too.” Gretchen said as she watched Dib eat up the scraps on the floor, “I guess he must like it now.”

Duncan makes a frustrated groan and gets up from the couch, “Gretchen, that mutt is getting out of control! He’s eating everything he sees!”

“He developed a taste for bologna, that doesn’t mean he’s eating everything.” Gretchen said the last word while making air quotes with her fingers.

“Are you kidding me?!” Duncan asked, clearly irritated that his sister was not noticing an obvious pattern. He had a flashback to when he had left a taco on the kitchen table only to come back and see Dib standing on top of the table and eating his taco. Duncan managed to shoo Dib off the table, but the werewolf took the entire taco with him. There was another memory of Dib scurrying out of the kitchen with a mozzarella stick and Duncan angrily shouting at him, “Hey, you little freak!!” And yet another memory of Duncan eating a drumstick from Chicky Licky but Dib jumped up and bit the chicken. He had broken the bone and got away with the meat, horrifying Duncan as he stared at the snapped bone. In the final flashback, Duncan appears to be sneaking out of the kitchen with a cookie, keeping a watchful eye for the pilfering predator, but he fails to notice a shadow with amber glowing eyes in the dark hallway. The werewolf shrouded in darkness pounces on him with a snarl causing Duncan to scream. Flash to the present and Duncan yells at Gretchen, “It’s driving me crazy, and now he’s even eating bologna!” He looks down at Dib finishing the remainder of the scraps and leans down, shaking a fist in his face, “And that was MY sandwich, you little hairball!!” Dib only responds with a friendly lick on Duncan’s face. The teenager shrieks in disgust and wipes the slobber off his face.

“Don’t yell at him, he’s only a puppy!” Gretchen tells Duncan and gets down on the floor to pet and comfort Dib after getting yelled at, though he didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Yeah, maybe for now. Keep it up, Gretchen, and soon we’ll be next on the menu.” Duncan warned her and stormed off.

Gretchen continues to stroke Dib’s spiky hair, “Don’t worry, Dib. He just doesn’t appreciate your cuteness.” She cups his chubby cheeks and looks into his eyes, talking to him as if he were a dog, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?” She hugs him and Dib closes his eyes, wagging his tail and enjoying the hug.

A few nights later, Gretchen is doing her homework at the kitchen table. ‘If Chris stuck his hand into a wasp nest, how many stings would he get before he dies from anaphylactic shock?’ Gretchen read from her textbook, baffled by these stupid questions, ‘How am I supposed to know? How many wasps are in that nest? Why is he sticking his hand into the nest? Does he want to die from wasp stings? Of course, Ms. Bitters would love this question considering she’s a giant bu-’

“GRETCHEN!!”

The booming shout of her brother broke her concentration. She walked out to the living room, “What? I’m doing my homework!”

“Your puppy just stole my entire box of Chinese food from my room!” Duncan yelled, “Nowhere is safe in this house from this animal!”

“Dib doesn’t go in your room, Duncan.” Gretchen put her hands on her hips, “Besides, I just fed him.”

“Oh yeah?” Duncan walked to the corner of the room, “Then what’s all this?” He pointed at Dib who was resting on his favorite fluffy, white pet rug. There were bits and pieces of egg rolls and noodles around him. He looked so peaceful with his closed eyes, totally ignoring Duncan’s loud complaining.

“D’aww…” Gretchen crouched down, “He looks so happy.” She gently pets him; he feels as soft as a plushie.

“I’ve had it up to here with that fat mongrel!” Duncan tensed up. How could his sister not care about having a thieving monster in the house?

“Hey!” Gretchen glared at him, “Don’t say that! He’s not fat!”

“Are you serious?!” Duncan asked and gestured towards the wolf, “Look at him! He’s huge! He looks like a chunky chihuahua that fell in a vat of nuclear waste!”

“Okay, now you’re just being mean, Duncan.” Gretchen stood up, “Maybe he’s a little chubby, but he’s not that bad.”

“Psh, yeah, ‘a little chubby.’” Duncan scoffed, “Bet you he can’t roll over.”

“Yes, he can!” Gretchen walked out and came back with a bag of treats, “Dibbers, you want a treat, boy? You want a treat?” She shook the bag and Dib looked up at her straight away, panting and wagging his tail. She held out a biscuit, “Roll over!” Once hearing the command, Dib obeyed and pushed himself to roll. It took him a couple of seconds, but he managed to roll over. Unfortunately, his rotund body rolled into the purple vase next to the rug, causing it to crash onto the tiles. Duncan facepalmed; their mom is not going to be happy about that. Gretchen flinched at the broken vase, “Uhhh…told you he could roll over.” She tossed the treat Dib earned.

Duncan wiped his hand off his face and asked no one in particular, “Why…just why…?”

“Um, c’mon, Dib…” Gretchen walked away from the shattered pieces, “Let’s get you away from this mess.” Dib followed her, his claws tapping the floor as he went. She led him to the backyard door in the kitchen, “Want to go outside?” He jumped at the suggestion and ran for the pet door. The first half of his body squeezed in, but the second half ended up breaking off the pet door and carrying it outside as he walked through. Gretchen stared at the hole in the door with concern, “Hmmm…”

Later that night, Gretchen thought about what Duncan had said. Was she really overfeeding Dib? Nah, she was just giving him all her love. The love he deserved all along. If treats made him happy, why stop? She glanced at her brother as they walked down the brightly lit city main street. He looked relaxed which was a welcome change to his usual frustration. They were just having a stroll downtown and… Wait…why were they downtown?

Before Gretchen could think about where she was, hundreds of people running and screaming in terror passed them, “What’s going on?” Right as she asked that, thunderous quakes erupted in their vicinity.

A straggling woman shrieked, “Run for your lives!! It’s the MONSTER!!” She pointed behind them.

The tremors were getting louder and stronger, nearly causing Gretchen and Duncan to fall over. Soon, an enormous shadow loomed over the two kids. She and Duncan turned around to see what everybody was running from. It was gigantic, it was fluffy, it was pudgy…it was Dib! The werewolf had grown to a massive size! On all fours, he stood at about 100 feet tall, towering over the boy and girl surrounded by people scrambling to get away from the beast. Gretchen gasped, “Dib?!” He appeared content and without a care in the world, with his tongue sticking out, “How did he get so big?” Gretchen asked. The werewolf looked down at the tiny humans scurrying around his paws; to Gretchen’s horror, he plucked a man from the crowd and ate him!

“Don’t you see?!” Duncan flung out his arms, “His appetite has grown out of control!”

Gretchen watches as her beloved wolf boy gobbles up the helpless people like candy, “No…it can’t be true…”

When the crowd of people dispersed from the giant fuzzball, he leaped away to another block, pounding the ground as he ran and activating car alarms, “We have to stop him!” Duncan exclaimed. They chased after the humongous creature, hoping to end his ravenous rampage.

Dib dived into the next intersection, pouncing on a truck that had the misfortune of being in his way. He picked up the vehicle and chomped on it as if it were a burrito. His colossal tail wagged and wiped out anything and anybody that was behind him; it flung screaming people several feet in the air. As Dib was enjoying his snack, fighter jets and helicopters flew overhead. Their noise as they zoomed by disturbed Dib from his taco truck, and he glared at the flying nuisances. They shot an array of bullets in his direction, but all they did was annoy him further. Dib growled at the military’s feeble attempts to destroy him. To him, these planes and choppers were like flies buzzing around, ruining his meal. He swiped at the jets with his claws, knocking a few out of the air, causing them to crash into the ground and surrounding buildings. A helicopter makes the mistake of flying above him and Dib jumps up and bites the aircraft. Once landing on his two feet in an Earth-shattering boom, the scythe-haired boy chewed up and swallowed the crushed metallic mess. He continues to stomp down the city streets, moving through the skyscrapers, until he meets a certain mutant hamster eating a bus. Ultra-Peepi waved at him, and Dib waved back as he went on his way. Up ahead, Dib turns a corner in the neon pink and purple metropolis with his tail lashing through a building, but he stops in his tracks when he sees a defense line of tanks blocking him. The tanks immediately fire at him and the werewolf furiously snarls.

Gretchen and Duncan run up to the assault on the overly large lycanthrope, “Oh no! Don’t hurt him!” Gretchen bit her nails in worry, but the weapons have done nothing to Dib but make him mad. With a flash of yellow light from his eyes, Dib blasts the tanks away in a fiery explosion with laser vision. Upon uncovering her face from the bright flash, Gretchen was bewildered, “Okay, this is getting weird…”

With the first line of tanks destroyed, the military moves in new maser tanks that look like they come straight out of a kaiju film. They fire blue, electric beams at the fuzzy behemoth, and he roars in pain. While these weapons seemed more effective, they did not stand a chance against Dib’s tail swipe. With a firm turn and a tail whip at the row of maser tanks, they are destroyed in seconds. Dib stands amid the damage undefeated; the terrified citizens look on as the giant monster survived everything the military threw at him, “Nothing can stop him! We’re DOOMED!!” A man cried. The werewolf flattened the tanks as he stomped to a particularly high skyscraper. Its windows shattered as he climbed up the building, and once reaching the top, he howled at the moon. People covered their ears at the terrible, deafening sound of his howling. In the midst of the commotion, Gretchen and Duncan approach the front of the building. They stared at Dib from below, wondering how they would get him to stop tearing apart the town.

“This is all from giving him too many treats!” Duncan shouts at Gretchen.

“That’s it!” At that moment, Gretchen gets an idea, “Treats!” She pulls out a bag of bone biscuits seemingly from nowhere. Dib hears the ruffling of the bag all the way at the top of the high-rise building and looks down; when he sees the treats, he eagerly wags his tail, “Dibbers, you want a treat, boy?” Gretchen calls to him. The titanic canid jumped from the building and smashed into the pavement in front of the two siblings, sending dust and debris into the air. Gretchen and Duncan fall to the ground from the shockwave, but they shakily stand back up to face the ginormous monster nerd, “Okay Dib, sit!” Gretchen gives a simple command, but even this is nerve-racking. Dib obeys and sits down but his immense weight causes a rippling quake that almost brings Gretchen and Duncan to the ground again. Dib was so chubby that he couldn’t sit like he used to; he stuck out his legs like an overweight chihuahua, “Good boy!” Gretchen rewards him by throwing a biscuit as high as she could; Dib leaned in to catch the treat, “See? He’s nice.” The purple-haired girl reassured her brother.

Duncan looked up at the big furball smiling and wagging his tail, “I guess you’re righ-AH!” The teen couldn’t finish his sentence before Dib picked him up by his shirt and held him above his mouth, “I told you we’d be next!!” Duncan yelled as Dib gulped him down.

“Oh no…” Gretchen barely made out a word after seeing her brother get eaten when suddenly, a recognizable maniacal laughter rang in her ears.

“Has your pathetic military failed at destroying the Dib-beast?”

Gretchen turned to see an evil disguised alien haughtily crossing his arms, “Zim?”

“Your enormous lap dog can be easily defeated with this!” Zim pulled out his blue explosive serum from his pak, “And once I obliterate the Dibwolf, no one will be able to stop me from taking over this filthy planet!!” Zim threw his head back and laughed again, but his obnoxious mirth was quickly interrupted by Dib biting his entire head. He dropped the toxic substance as his arms and legs flailed while he screamed in between Dib’s jaws. The wolf boy effortlessly devoured the Irken, “Curse you, Dib! CURSE YOOUUU!!” Zim’s muffled yelling was so loud, he could be heard while going down Dib’s esophagus.

Gretchen sneered at the pitiful alien’s defeat, “That was kinda funny.” It was always hilarious when Zim loses, even if he was horribly wolfed down this time. However, her joy was abruptly halted by Dib picking her up by the hood of her dress, lifting her up to his face, “No, Dib!” Gretchen cried, “You’re not a monster like in those movies! You’re the sole defender of Earth, remember?” Her legs were dangling above his mouth now, “Dib, it’s me, Gretchen! Don’t you recognize me?” For a moment, Dib gazed at her and made a soft, curious whimper. Gretchen’s expression lit up when he sniffed and studied her, “That’s right, you’re a good puppy!” Dib smiled at her, and she squeezed her hands; she was getting through to him! They stayed like that for a few heartfelt seconds, but Dib stuffed her in his mouth and swallowed her anyway… Gretchen squealed in terror as she fell into Dib’s stomach. She survived, but she was covered in saliva that dripped all over her as she stood up, “Ew…” It was fairly dark in there and her ghost necklace emitted a faint green glow.

“Well, look who joined the party…” A voice echoed.

Gretchen realized the voice came from Gaz leaning against the stomach wall while playing her Game Slave 4, “Gaz, you’re here too?”

The younger girl kept her eyes on her video game, “Everyone’s here, buckteeth.”

Gretchen looked over to see a large group of people glaring at her. She gasped; in the gathering, she saw Duncan and her parents, Zim and his minions, Zim’s weird neighbors, the Skool kids, teachers like Ms. Bitters and Mr. Elliot, a creepy chihuahua, and some guy dressed in black with glasses, spiky hair and a shirt with a “Z?” design on it…and none of them looked happy. Except for the creepy chihuahua, it only stared at her.

“This is your fault!” Duncan shouted at Gretchen. The crowd appeared to agree with him as they began to start an uproar, shaking their fists at her. They marched closer to her, all of them enraged and ready to beat her up. She saw kids like Chunk and Torque pounding their fists and cracking their knuckles.

Gretchen threw her hands in front of her, “Wait! I can fix this!” She backed up as the angry mob closed in on her, “No! NOOOO!” She closed her eyes and screamed for her life, but the pain never came. The girl opened her eyes and shot up from her bed in a panic, gasping for air. She was in her bedroom, the morning light shining through her window, and when realizing this, she was able to catch her breath. Her loose long hair swung behind her as she looked around her pink room filled with plushies; the white doors of her wall closet open and her computer screens on her desk reflecting the bright sunlight. Birds sang from outside; there was no danger at all. “A dream...it was just a dream…” She put a hand to her head, “A terrible...and weird dream...” She was able to calm down, “Okay, I got this.”

At sunset that evening, Gretchen sat on the sofa thinking about how she was going to handle her puppy problems. It’s one thing to say no to a pet, but it’s a whole different thing to say no to a werewolf. Dib never fails to come over now; he has been conditioned to always expect love and affection when he sees Gretchen; not to mention, food. When the sky turned dark and the crickets began to chirp, she watched the front pet door. Like clockwork, Dib poked his head through the flap. His speedy panting was the only sound in the house for a moment until the sound of him trying to squeeze his overly plump body through the door disturbed the peace. Gretchen saw his struggle and got up to open the door for him; she did not want to have to fix another broken pet door.

Gretchen greeted him as she helped him into the house, “Hiya, Dibbers!” He wagged his tail; he was happy to see her like always. She crouched to his level and allowed him to lick her face in his typical canine greeting. Usually, the first thing Gretchen did was feed him when he came over, and she decided that she should keep up that part of the routine so as to not disappoint him too much tonight. He would not be able to steal any snacks from Duncan either since he was out with his girlfriend. Gretchen led Dib into the kitchen, “You ready for dinner?” She fetched a pet bowl for him. Dib’s eyes lit up and he begged for the kibble as Gretchen poured some in the bowl. The portion was definitely not as much as he was used to eating so he ate it up quite fast. The little wolf whined at the green-eyed girl, clearly wanting more. Gretchen sympathized with him, but she had to hold her ground, “What?” She asked with a hint of sarcasm, “That’s a normal sized serving; you don’t need anymore.” Dib looked back down at the bowl in sadness and Gretchen gave him a pat on the head, “Oh c’mon Dibby, it’s not so bad. You need to start eating normal portions now. It’s for your own good. You can have some more in the morning.” She shot a glance at the clock on the microwave, “Ooh, it’s almost time for Mysterious Mysteries. Let’s go!” Dib followed Gretchen into the living room, but the missing kibble didn’t leave his mind.

On the TV screen, the host of the paranormal show stood next to a picture of a bee with a cape and fangs, “Vampire bees...honey sucking demons from the bee underworld or an elaborate hoax? The truth is a mystery...” He spoke with his classic raspy but smooth voice along with the creepy soundtrack. Dib laid down next to a sitting Gretchen as they watched the show, but he was unable to focus on the terrible reenactment of a gruesome vampire bee encounter. He sat up and tapped Gretchen’s arm.

“What?” She giggled. Dib gazed at her with his puppy dog eyes; a common tactic, “I know that face. You want a treat, don’t you?” Dib nodded and begged. He was so cute when he did that, but Gretchen had to push herself to not fall for it, “Aww, but Dib, you already had your dinner.” Upon hearing that answer, Dib’s panting turned to a disappointed whimper. He licked her face, but she petted him on the head in return…still no treat. Time to take it up a notch… He rolled on her lap in another attempt to look cute and persuade her. He smiled and looked up at her with the most adorable pose he could muster. Gretchen remained strong, however, “You can’t have so many treats anymore.” She gave him a belly rub, “You’re getting too chunky.” Gretchen grunted as she pushed him off; he was so much heavier that it was uncomfortable for him to be on her lap. Sitting back up, he rubbed his head on her arm, trying one more time to get her to give into his fluffy charm, but it only earned him a firm look, “No, Dib. No treats.” She pointed at the screen, “C’mon, let’s keep watching the show.” Having failed to convince her, Dib pouted. He wasn’t interested in his favorite show right now. All he could think about was how hungry he was, and Gretchen wasn’t budging. He whined and glanced down at his rumbling tummy; he just had to eat something…

Looking past Gretchen towards the kitchen, Dib saw the bag of kibble sticking out of the open pantry. The crunchy meaty goodness was sitting there waiting for him… He licked his lips and hopped off the couch. Gretchen was so focused on the interview of a man who claimed to have survived a vampire bee attack that it was not until she heard a crash coming from the kitchen that she noticed Dib was no longer by her side. She looked to see Dib had dragged out the bag of kibble and was eating straight from the bag while having strewed the kibble all over the kitchen floor. The shocked girl jumped off the couch and ran to him, “Dib!” She pulled him out of the bag but struggled with how hefty he was, “Bad boy, you can’t have all that!” The little furball still tried to continue feasting but Gretchen held on to his coat collar, “Sit!” For the first time in a long while, Dib disobeyed her, but she sat down and took him down with her, “Duncan was right. You are greedy.” She sighed at the pudgy puppy forcibly held in her arms, “What am I going to do with you?” Dib tried to grab the last of the scattered kibble he raided, and Gretchen knew he would want more as long as he was in the house, “Maybe getting some fresh air will help.” She opened the backyard door, which had the pet door shoddily repaired, and pushed him outside, closing the door behind him. Dib whined at the closed door...he felt like his girl had rejected him. He glanced towards the fenced backyard and saw her pets were huddled together in a corner whimpering, terrified of him. They were trembling at his presence, but Dib had no interest in them; he just wanted food, and cats and dogs weren’t the most appetizing animals…not that he would know…

Suddenly, the werewolf heard footsteps walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the fence, and out of curiosity, he trotted to the fence to get a view of what sounded like a human. Peeking through a hole in a picket, he saw a brief glimpse of a man walking by…and he smelled good… Dib dug a hole under the fence and squeezed his body to the other side where he ran after the man who was singing a little tune, “Doodidoodidoodoodoooo...” Like a good hunter, he hid in the bushes so as to not spook his prey. The man carrying a bag heard some rustling in the bushes next to him and stopped singing, but he kept on his way. It was probably just a raccoon, he thought to himself…nothing to worry about…but his calm demeanor instantly vanished when the rustling bushes began to growl. He froze and sweated bullets; that did not sound like a raccoon. He turned his head at the sound coming from the shrubs and before he could react, a creature snarled and leaped at him. A hideous scream of horror echoed throughout the neighborhood.

A woman walking in the opposite direction on the sidewalk gasped when she saw the grisly attack in front of her. A man was unconscious on the ground and a hairy thing was gnawing at something on him. The beast turned towards the woman and bared its teeth, snarling at her. It had a reddish fluid dripping in its drool! The woman screamed at the top of her lungs and ran away, but the monster didn’t give chase. All it wanted was to scare her away from his prey. The wolf boy had torn the man’s bag and opened his takeout, which happened to be chicken wings drenched in sauce. The man had fainted and left his food defenseless against the voracious werewolf.

Once finishing the wings, Dib licked the sauce from his lips and sniffed the air. He ran to another backyard fence and jumped to the top to get a better look at what smelled so good. It seemed that there was a gathering of people eating barbecue with ribs, sausages, pork chops, and other scrumptious food… Dib wagged his tail and drooled at the sight of the tasty chunks of meat. He pulled himself over the fence and clumsily fell on his back on the ground below in a thud, but he swiftly got up and rushed to the table. Shrieks and screams filled the yard when the werewolf hopped on their table and howled. He snapped and snarled at the humans to scare them away from the food; they ran into their house to hide from the creature. With the rival predators gone, Dib dug into the juicy array of meats, getting barbecue sauce and grease all over his clothing. After making a huge mess from practically inhaling the grilled food, dropping the paper plates and plastic cutlery all around the grass, Dib ran from the scene before animal control could catch him.

Further into town at the carnival, Duncan and his girlfriend, Janine, were enjoying a date night. As they walked through the carnival, they were eating blue and green cotton candy. Janine bit into her green puffy snack as she listened to Duncan complain about his sister, “...and she feeds that wild animal every night. Now he’s eating everything in the house.”

Janine laughed and shook her head, “Sounds like you really hate that dog.” She interjected.

Duncan huffed, “It’s no ordinary dog, trust me.” He thought for a moment, “I don’t really hate the little guy, he’s just-” Dib jumps out of nowhere and steals their cotton candy, leaving Janine startled and Duncan unsurprised at what just happened. He finished his sentence, “...the most annoying mutt I’ve ever known...”

People ran in different directions trying to avoid the frightening beast that was stealing their snacks. Their pretzels, corn dogs, and fried butter did not escape the beast’s jaws. They frantically evacuated the carnival that was terrorized by the monster. In the now deserted park, Dib jumped out of a cart with a funnel cake in his mouth, powdered sugar flaking everywhere. He ripped into the oily pastry like it was the last source of sustenance on Earth before running off to continue looting the town. Throughout the night, police and animal control were on high alert searching for the savage animal attacking unsuspecting victims, but every time they arrived at a scene, the creature had disappeared, narrowly avoiding their grasp. The pattern went on until morning when the attacks were finally put to an end by the werewolf reverting to his human form.

The sun shone over Hurt Park, the early birds sang, and the once monstrous boy stirred in the fallen autumn leaves. He groaned and turned over in the leaves and grass, his eyes fluttering open, no longer glowing a bright amber color. Dib rubbed his eyes under his glasses while he sat up before he noticed that he was outside in the park. This has not happened in a long time; usually he wakes up on the pet rug in Gretchen’s house, which was admittedly kind of awkward but definitely more comfortable than waking up out in nature. Through the haziness of having transformed back into a human, Dib just now realized how sick he felt. He does feel a bit dizzy after changing, but not nauseated; surely something was wrong here. He moaned and rubbed his upset stomach, trying to soothe the bloaty, overstuffed symptoms that made it hard for him to move. It was at this moment when he saw the dark red splotches on his clothes, and they were cold and sticky to the touch. These stains looked like…

“What the-?!” Dib held out his hands, which were covered in the reddish substance, “What happened?!” His breaths became quick and shallow, “What did I do?!” He could have a panic attack right about now, but an unexpected belch gave him the answer. He had eaten something last night, but thankfully, it didn’t taste like what he feared it was. The boy knew this familiar taste, “This isn’t blood…this is…” He licked his hand, “…barbecue sauce?” He also tasted other sweet flavors such as ketchup and powdered sugar. Now, he was really perplexed at what happened last night. Dib couldn’t stay out in the park pondering this as he had to get home and get cleaned up. It sure was a long walk back to his house, or at least, it felt like a long walk. The stomach cramps didn’t help him at all, and neither did his recently added chubbiness. He pushed his front door open, allowing it to slam against the wall as he made a tired groan. As Dib walked into the living room, he approached Gaz leaning against the opening to the kitchen with her phone; he didn’t even feel like saying good morning to her. As for Gaz, her brother walking in with dirty, tattered clothes didn’t faze her anymore.

“Hey Dib, kill anyone last night?” She jokingly asked.

“Leave me alone, Gaz. I’m not feeling well.” Dib walked past her and was not in the mood for her heckling.

“What’s the matter?” This first question was obviously rhetorical, “Not even in the mood to see the latest monster headlines?” She held up her phone.

Dib hopped back to her and took her phone to see for himself, “Fat monster wiener dog terrorizes town? Steals candy from a baby?!” He read out loud from the news article that had a picture of what appeared to be Dib in his werewolf form shrouded in shadows with glowing eyes. He scrolled down to see a picture of a baby crying. The caption under the photo read: “Baby is sad.”

“What happened, Dib? Did your girlfriend forget to feed you or something?” Gaz teased him.

Dib gave his sister her phone back and wondered about that too. While he didn’t consider his relationship with Gretchen to be that serious at his age, he knew what Gaz was talking about, and maybe his friend might know about what’s going on with his beastly self...

Later that day at a cul-de-sac not far from the Membrane household, a loud explosion came from inside an alien-looking house. It rocked the nearby houses and set off car alarms, but no one seemed to care. Inside the house was a small robot watching TV and eating nachos from a pile of cheese; he didn’t care about the explosion either, or the smoke arising from the underground laboratory.

“Warning: noxious smoke detected.” A computer voice came from the house itself.

A growling insectoid alien emerged from a toilet in the kitchen, “I KNOW, computer!” The alien’s skin and uniform were burned and covered in ashes with one of his antennae lit like a candle, “I am SICK of this blue explodey goo! ...I am THIS close to dumping the rest of it into the city cesspool!”

Zim stomped out of the toilet and into the living room where a purple space moose floated over, “Nyah?”

“No Minimoose, but thanks for the offer…” Zim sighed and sat next to GIR eating his disgusting nachos, “What are you watching?”

“A puppy dog!” GIR exclaimed.

A news anchor was on TV reporting on incidents that happened the night before, “Witnesses have reported a monster wiener dog has been stalking the streets late last night stealing snacks from countless victims!” A picture of the shadowy creature appeared beside the newscaster, and it had the unmistakable appearance of a certain spiky-haired werewolf.

“Wait, is that…?” Zim asks as he looks closer at the picture.

The shot changes to a woman being interviewed, “It was HORRIBLE! It came straight for my Suck Munkey...MY PRECIOUS SUCK MUNKEY!!” She buried her face in her hands crying, remembering her traumatic experience.

“Hmmm…” Zim puts a hand to his chin in thought. His villainous gears were churning… He grinned and he began to laugh…and laugh…and he laughed some more. His evil laughter continued until he abruptly felt a burning sensation. He grabbed his lit antenna, “Have I been on fire this whole time?”

In the late afternoon, Gretchen paced back and forth in her room, “Oh man, oh man…what am I going to do?” She had heard the news of what happened the night before and she knew it was her fault, but what could she do to prevent her fluffy friend from going on a snacking rampage? “I just hope Dib doesn’t-” A ringtone blared from her charging phone on her desk, and Gretchen yelped in anxiety. She picked up her phone and saw the caller ID which had the name and picture of Dib winking while making a peace sign. The girl shakily answered the call, “Hey, Dib!”

“Hey, Gretchen.” The boy’s voice answered, “So, uh…do you know anything about what happened last night?”

“Wha-what do you mean?” Gretchen tried to play it cool but her shaky voice wasn’t helping.

“Y’know…about what happened with me when I…y’know. Didn’t you hear the news?”

“Oh, the monster stuff? Y-you think that was you? Didn’t they say that it was a dog or something?”

“Listen Gretchen, I woke up today covered in barbecue sauce and grease, it had to be me!” Dib raised his voice.

“Oh…well that does sound kinda weird.” Gretchen tried to sound surprised, “Maybe you went out hunting, I guess?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Dib was also pacing in his room, “I can’t be causing mayhem like this! What if I hurt someone…or worse?!” Gretchen heard the dread in his voice, “You’ve gotta help me, Gretchen. Can you come over tonight and keep me from going out on the prowl?”

“Sure, I can, Dib.” Gretchen’s face lit up at the chance to fix her mistake, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, Gretch.” Dib smiled, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Gretchen blushed, “No problem.”

After hanging up, the magenta-haired girl raced down the stairs and zipped past her mother, Cherrie, who was doing the dishes, “Bye, mom! I’m going to Dib’s house, seeya!” She told her mom as fast as she could and with any luck, she’d be out through the door before her mom could-

“Gretchen!”

She stopped in her tracks, ‘Almost made it.’

“You know it’s your turn to walk the dogs.” Her mother called out to her.

“Aww, can’t Duncan do that?” Gretchen turned back at her mom.

“Duncan has been walking the dogs for three days straight now. You are way overdue on your turn!” Cherrie scolded, “It’s not fair to your brother.”

Gretchen let out a frustrated sigh. She was going to have to text Dib that she might get there later than she thought, but if she hurried, she may be able to make it before sundown. However, she knew she needed some backup just in case. As she stepped outside with her husky, yellow Labrador, and yorkie in their leashes, she called the only support she had.

Back at Dib’s house, a phone rang near a girl playing her Game Slave on the couch. She turned on speaker phone to answer while still playing her game, “What is it, brace-face?”

“Gaz, I need you to do me a favor. It’s about Dib.” Gretchen said.

“Yeah, when you call, it’s usually about him.” Gaz was unsurprised.

“I need you to keep Dib from going outside when he goes wolf. He has to stay inside so I can stop him from going out hunting again.”

“Is this about the stealing food from people thing?”

“You guessed it.”

Gaz chuckled, “Okay, sounds easy enough.”

“Thanks, Gaz. Oh, and don’t feed him anything, you hear? He’s been going crazy for treats.”

“Reeeally?” Gaz snickered with a hint of spite, “Don’t worry, Gretchen, I hear you loud and clear.” The gamer girl paused her game and hung up on Gretchen before opening the Bloaty’s Pizza Hog delivery app, “This’ll be fun.”

Gretchen rushed to the Membranes’ house after sunset, and while the last orange and purple hues of the sun’s rays were still in the sky, she had a bad feeling she was too late. She ran up the sidewalk to the door and hit the doorbell as she tried to catch her breath. Gaz opened the door with a slight smile.

“Sorry I’m late, some guy’s pet monkey got loose, and it attacked this lady and of course, my dogs had to go chase after it and then there was this helicopter crash and crocodiles-” Gretchen paused, “Man, this city is nuts.”

Gaz walked with her to the kitchen, ��Yeah, it be like that sometimes.”

Walking into the kitchen, Gretchen gasped at what she saw. Her werewolf friend was digging into a Bloaty’s pizza box on the floor.

“Gaz, you fed him an entire pizza?!” Gretchen yelled.

“Aww, but he was just begging for some!” Gaz said, clearly faking her concern, “I couldn’t let my own brother go hungry.”

“Ugh,” Gretchen approached the wolf pup, “Gaz, Dib needs to eat less treats, not more, and definitely not pizza!” Dib looked up from the box at Gretchen and wagged his tail, his face covered in greasy cheese and tomato sauce; he had already finished the whole pizza. Gretchen sighed and crouched down to pet him, “Hello, you little rascal.” She scratched his head, but before she knew it, Dib darted for the fridge. After rummaging inside it, he pulled out a ham in his mouth, “Dib, no! Put that back!” Gretchen gave him a firm command, but he refused to listen and ran away with the ham like the little thief he was. Gretchen gave chase running by Gaz, who was recording the mischief on her phone. This was definitely going on the internet. Dib hid behind the couch but ran out the other side when Gretchen tried to catch him, “Oh, c’mon!” She growled. The chubby puppy ran upstairs with Gretchen hot on his trail. She had a feeling she knew where he was going and barged into his room where she saw his twitching fluffy tail sticking out from under his bed. The frustrated girl got down on her knees and looked under the bed; she saw Dib munching away at the ham, “Dib, you’re being a very bad boy, come out here!” He disobeyed her again, “Am I going to have to pull you out?” Gretchen stuck her arm under there and pulled on the ham bone which only caused Dib to bite onto the ham even harder; he growled, not wanting his food taken away, “Let go!” Gretchen grunted and kept pulling. She managed to stand up and get a better grasp on the bone to pull half of the werewolf’s body out from under the bed, but he still had the bone in his jaws. Gretchen pulled so hard that she lost her grip and fell backwards, landing on the hard floor with a yelp. Sitting up, she saw Dib gnawing on the remaining chunks of ham on the bone. He was so stubborn... “This is going to be tougher than I thought…” Gretchen put a hand to her head, “What can I do?” Suddenly, she got an idea, and she snapped her fingers. She walked out and came back with a chain leash and collar, “A walk will get your mind off food!” She dangled the chains, “Dibbers, you want to go for a walk?” Fortunately for her, Dib dropped the bone at the jingling sound and panted eagerly at the offer. There was hope for this furball yet.

It was a great relief for Gretchen to bring out Dib on a walk, and with any luck, this will tire him out enough to relax and sleep for the rest of the night. They walked on the sidewalk downtown with Gretchen keeping an eye out for escaped monkeys and crocodiles, but all seemed calm for a night out in the city.

“Isn’t this nice, Dibby?” Gretchen talked to her supposed “dog.” No one was going to believe she was taking a werewolf out on a walk, “Pretty lights and fresh air…well, as fresh as city air can be…” Dib trotted beside her with the jingling noises of the chain and collar, feeling pretty tranquil himself, but it was all over when some kids appeared in their path.

“Ugh, look who’s here.” Zita complained with her two friends Sara and Jessica. They each had a cone of shaved ice.

“Hi, guys!” Gretchen greeted with her usual friendly nature, “How’s it going?”

“It was fine until you and your weird dog showed up.” Sara griped.

Dib eyed their snow cones and stuck his tongue out.

“Yeah, and your dog got fat and uglier.” Jessica mocked the wolf boy, “What have you been feeding it? Lard?”

Gretchen scowled at the mean girls’ insults thrown at Dib more than the ones directed at her, but before she could say anything back, Dib pounced on Zita, knocking her to the ground. The three girls screamed and dropped their shaved ice; Sara and Jessica ran off and abandoned Zita.

“Help!! It’s got rabies!!” Zita shouted, but Dib jumped for her dessert on the ground, allowing her to get up and run away.

“Hehe…” Gretchen giggled at their torment, but she knew it was bad behavior from the little wolf pup, “That was funny, but it wasn’t nice, Dib.” She saw the fuzzball lapping up the shaved ice and pulled him away, “Come on now.” Dib whined as he was pulled away from the sugary sweetness, his claws dragging on the concrete. Further down the road, they walked to an intersection, “I don’t know why people can’t keep their nasty opinions to themselves.” Gretchen murmured about Zita and the girls, “I mean, is it really that hard?” She was talking to no one in particular at this point; Dib was still sad about the shaved ice left behind, but he caught a whiff of something else in the air, something way better than sweet ice. He realized the delicious aroma was coming from the McMeaties on the other side of the street; he salivated at the sight. Gretchen felt a sharp pull to the left, “Wha-?” The lycanthrope on the leash was pulling her into the street, “Dib, where are you going?!” She was no match for his strength and could not pull him away from the entrance to the restaurant, “Dib, no! Bad boy!” It was no use, the werewolf barged in and jumped onto a table littered with burgers and fries. His sudden appearance scared everyone away from the table and caused pandemonium in the building.

“It’s the wiener dog monster!!” A man yelled. Customers ran for their lives out the doors, completely deserting the place, leaving Dib to gobble up as much food as he could.

“Dib, get off of there!” Gretchen pulled on the leash to no avail, “It’s not even real meat! It’s made of napkins!” The girl growled and resorted to picking him up from the table. He was so heavy that she almost fell over from the weight, but she managed to stumble outside with him in her arms. She put him on the ground and sighed, “Naughty wolfie…” Gretchen didn’t have time to catch her breath as the sounds of police sirens closed in on them, “Uh oh, let’s get out of here!” Dib and Gretchen ran off before police and animal control arrived on the scene. “Looks like I have a lot more training to do with you.” Gretchen said once they got away from the crime scene, but it wasn’t long before Dib started pulling her again, “DIB!” He dragged her on the ground going towards a Krazy Taco where the same thing happened. Gretchen carried him out but afterwards, he pillaged a Burrito King, and finally, a Deelishus Weenie stand. Gretchen was so tired after that last raid that she dropped him on the ground in an alleyway. Dib on the other hand was happily chewing away at a weenie as he sat in front of his sweaty puppy sitter, “Oh Dibbers, what am I going to do with you?” Gretchen wiped sweat off her forehead; she was going to be very sore tomorrow, “That’s it. We’re going home.”

Gretchen tugged Dib back in the direction of the neighborhood. She felt like she was back to square one with training Dib. If she hadn’t fed him so many treats and allowed him to get addicted to food, then she wouldn’t be in this mess. Fortunately, she found that Dib was well-behaved when he wasn’t around food, but he can’t stay away from food all the time; he needed to control his impulsive attitude about snacks somehow. They were almost home, and Gretchen hoped nobody would walk by with anything that could tempt the tiny wolf, but just when she thought they could make it without incident, an unwelcome surprise stepped in their path.

“Hello, pig smellies!” Zim was standing in their way on the sidewalk.

“Great…” Gretchen muttered in sarcasm, “What do you want, Zim?”

“Oh, nothing.” Zim replied nonchalantly, “I don’t want anything at all,” A sadistic grin quickly formed on his slimy alien face, “but he does…” He pointed at his werewolf enemy, “GIR, unload the Earth fowl!!”

GIR in his doggy suit zipped into view and dumped a striped bucket full of Chicky Licky chicken onto the sidewalk in front of the two kids. The chicken was covered in a bluish glowing goo, and Gretchen immediately recognized the color. She gasped at the sight of the explosive fried meat, “Oh no, not Chicky Licky! That’s his favorite!” Dib wagged his tail and panted; he had the opposite reaction to the poisonous fast food and began to walk towards the offering from the alien. Gretchen tried to yank Dib back, but he was dead set on enjoying the oily poultry and he dragged her with him. To him, it didn’t matter that the chicken was blue, it still smelled so appetizing, “Oh no you don’t!” Gretchen pulled as hard as she could on the chain, “Stay!” He didn’t listen, “Sit!” No reaction, “How are you still hungry?!” Pulling on the leash was getting her nowhere so she tackled him and forced him to the ground, but Dib didn’t back down. He was so strong, he could keep crawling with Gretchen holding him, “Dib, if you eat that chicken, you’re going to explode! That’s what Zim wants!”

Zim cackled at the pathetic attempt from Gretchen, “Give up, teeth girl! Nothing will stop the Dibwolf from meeting his delectable DOOM!”

“Nyah!” Minimoose floated by Zim and cheered him on.

“Oh Minimoose, you’re too kind!” Zim took out a towel from his pak and draped it over Minimoose, “Here, put this on. The explosion could be messy.”

Dib slowly crept closer to the weaponized chicken with Gretchen still hanging on, refusing to give up. She only had a hold of his tail now, “Dib, please control yourself! You’re not a mindless carnivore, remember?” She grunted. The werewolf made it to the radiant chicken, “Zim is going to win if you eat that! You can’t let Zim win!” Gretchen yelled.

Something clicked in the boy’s mind. …Zim…win?

“Please!” Gretchen pleaded, “The fate of the world is at stake!” Dib heard the urgency from his friend and looked back at her. She was at the point of tears, “Please sit!”

Dib turned back to the chicken in sadness, but for the first time that night, Dib obeyed her command and sat down, even though tasty treats were right in front of him.

Zim was shocked at what just happened, “Eh?!”

“Good boy, Dibbers!!” Gretchen shouted praise at the fuzzy puppy in huge relief.

“What?! How can this be?!” Zim takes out a blueprint of his plan which was really an equation of crude drawings of chicken, the serum, Dib, and an explosion, “According to my calculations: greasy chicken plus serum plus the Dibwolf equals Ka-BOOM!” The disguised space bug crumpled the paper in his hand, “Why isn’t he taking the bait?!”

Gretchen proudly stands up and pats Dib on the head, “Looks like you didn’t factor in how well-trained and obedient he is.” She then whispers to herself, “Most of the time...” Dib’s tail wagged, “Nice try, Zim, but we won’t fall for your tricks.”

Zim makes an exasperated growl, “Curse you, Dibwolf!! And curse you, Gretchen…human…filth thing!!” He still wasn’t good at making up names for her yet.

The girl was not amused by Zim’s ridiculous insults. She bent down and detached the chain leash from the wolf’s collar, “Dib,” he looked up at her, “sic ‘em.”

Now that was a command Dib loved to hear. The wolf boy snarled at Zim who trembled at the ferocious sound; he knew what was coming next. The terrified invader shrieked and ran for his life while his robotic minions did nothing to help him. With his target on the move, Dib jumped over the chicken and chased after Zim. Gretchen smirked at Zim’s harrowing cries of pain as Dib promptly caught the alien and savagely mauled him. After getting bitten, clawed, and slammed to the cold concrete several times, a brutalized Zim was hurled in the air by Dib and landed beside GIR who happened to be picking up a piece of neon blue poultry. Zim moaned and lifted his bruised, bleeding head before he realized what GIR was about to do.

“Chicken!!” GIR giggled, “I’m gonna eat youuu…”

Zim screamed at his clueless SIR unit, “NO, GIR!! NOOOO!!”

GIR chomped on the drumstick and exploded in a bright flash of flying scrap metal in Zim’s face, sending Minimoose flying in the smoky blast, “Nyaaaah!”

Gretchen watched the chaos with Dib, having rushed to him to escape the explosion. She shook her head, “Looks like Zim needs to train his dog better.” She nudged Dib with her elbow in jest. The two walk away from Zim’s agonizing hollers of suffering.

Later, at Gretchen’s house in the kitchen…

“Good boy!” Gretchen tosses a biscuit at Dib who catches it midair.

Duncan walks into the kitchen, “What are you doing?”

“Rewarding Dib for fighting evil.” His sister replied. She picked another biscuit from the bag, “Did you get that bad alien? Did you?” She praised him, “Yes, you did! Yes, you did!” She fed him the treat.

Duncan sighed and facepalmed. Will his sister ever learn?

#Invader ZIM #Dib Membrane #Dibwolf #werewolf #wolf boy #Gretchen #DibxGretchen #chubby Dib #fanfiction #fanfic #monster kid #cute #funny #humor #story #comedy #Dib #Gretchen Impossible

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gardenergulfie · 3 years ago

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@pacificwaternymph well since you asked for more let me provide

Pix doesn’t believe in Mothman because a demon was already too much there can’t be moth monsters too! But the evidence that the Cryptid Hunters have collected is quite a lot so he tags along on a hunt. Katherine, seeing a new person, goes out of her way to scare him. Pix leaves that hunt very traumatised and fearing for his life. Katherine had a blast.

fWhip and Sausage trying to bribe Shrub into revealing info about Mothman has not gone well for them even after they gave her baked goods, gold, diamonds, IOUs, a bloodsheep pet, and a gun (made by fWhip). Shrub is delighted in all these gifts and to keep them coming she will sometimes drop the littlest of information like “I heard that Mothman is actually the 13th emperor and leads a kingdom of moth people” None of its true but Sausage and fWhip eat it right up.

I mentioned offhandedly in the og post that Lizzie is a cryptid and thats because Lizzie is actually the og cryptid. Long ago sailors caught sight of large fins trailing after their ships, a humanoid figure sitting on the rocks that disappeared when they got close, shadows in the storms controling the lightning and the rain. Lizzie is old and she’s the origin for many cryptid tails like sea serpents, sirens, ghosts, thunder gods and all other myths. Lizzie is just chilling being an eldritch cryptid who’s centuries old and thats very girlboss of her.

Scott is a secret Mothman hunter and has a conspiracy board in his room. Its full of maps thumbtacked with possible sightings, blurry pictures taken by the Cryptid Hunters, and red string trying to figure out where the Mothman will appear next. Jimmy, who is a non-believer in Mothman, made the funniest face when he found out that Scott, who he thought was a fellow skeptic, was hunting Mothman.

Joel does not believe in Mothman and will not believe in Mothman even if she appeared right infront of him, which she has. Katherine has outright told Joel that she’s Mothman because she knows that he won’t believe her and because Sausage and fWhip will lose their minds when they find out that Joel knew what Mothman was before them.

Sausage, fWhip and Gem are literally just Empires verson of Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Pearl really, really wants to fight Mothman and Katherine is too scared of Pearl’s power to let that happen so anytime the Hunters are anywehere near the Farming Empire she stays the hell away. Pearl is very confused as to why she hasn’t seen Mothman yet.

Xornoth is also a Mothman hunter because Mothman is stealing attention away from him and he wants them gone. Katherine doesn’t know this but Shrub does because Xornoth ranted to her one day while he was terrorizing her about how he’s going to find Mothman and crush them.

#mcyt #empires smp #katherine elizabeth #pixlriffs #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #geminitay #mythicalsausage #fwhip #pearlescentmoon #shubble #xornoth #scott smajor #solidaritygaming #Katherine Mothman au #Empires Cryptid au

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ghosttotheparty · 4 years ago

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the secret of red sea glass

AO3 The train is always louder than Lucas expects, even if he expects the most.

It’s even louder when he rests his head on the cold glass of the window, his head bumping with the rhythmic rattling and thumping as the train speeds past fields and fields, and villages and villages, and skies and skies. They change colour as he watches. After watching the cottage-covered cliffsides and the stretches of sand and crashing waves of his home pass by, he watches vibrant colours pass, more vibrant, more bright than his home in the South.

There are green and pinks, purples and yellows, flower-covered cottages, trees, shrubs, gardens, fields of flowers in the East. Lucas has only been a few times, painting some of the rich, stuffy old families that can afford mansions. And their portraits to be painted. He’d be lying if he said he did his absolute best on all of them. But he supposes he doesn’t really have to do his best on all of them. There aren’t many people who paint sit-in portraits and the few others who do cost more than Lucas, who’s willing to take any amount of money he can. He smiles at the flowers because no one is in the cabin to see him, remembering the flowers he stole for his mother. He’d presented them in a messy, crumpled, dishevelled bouquet, after having stuffed them in his jacket to hide them. He’d had to wear the jacket until he arrived at the train station in the South, and he’d already been sweating and miserable hat point, but it was worth it to see her face light up. He knew she’d suspected him of having stolen them, but she still placed them carefully in a vase on the kitchen table proudly, until the petals had all fallen around the glass. Lucas kept some of the petals and crushed them into flakes, which he keeps in the locket he wears around his neck. His mother still has a collection of flowers, now dead and faded, but still beautiful in her eyes.

After a while (he doesn’t know how long; there isn’t a clock and he’s never been able to afford a working watch), the brightness of the East changes to darker, richer reds and oranges that blur until the landscape looks like a sunset under the sky in the West. Though Lucas likes the exuberance of the East, he can also appreciate the more toned-down colours. They remind him of his mother’s hair, a rich, dark brown that shines red under the sunlight. Lucas likes when she goes with him to the beach, rare as it may be, and lets her hair loose. It flows in the wind like waves, glistening and sparkling like the water under the sun. (Everything he sees seems to make him think of her.)

He would paint it all if he could.

He clutches his bag to his chest, resting his chin on the softness of where he’s stuffed his clothes, and sighs, letting his eyes drift shut.

---

When he wakes up, it’s dark. And cold.

The window feels like a sheet of ice, and it hurts to pull his head away.

It’s too dark to see much, except flashes of white in the shadows of night, as the light of the train windows speed past mounds of snow. He pulls his bag closer, wishing he had a blanket or a quilt, and moves closer to the window, suddenly awake. He’s never seen snow before. He’s never had the opportunity, never had anybody in the North hire him to paint them.

Of course, until someone recommended him to the king.

Thinking of it still makes his stomach swoop, still makes a shiver go down his spine.

The king.

He’s going to paint the king.

And his family, of course, though Lucas doesn’t know how many people are in it.

The queen, he supposes.

He knows they have a daughter, an ambassador of some sort to foreign nations. He thinks he has other children, but nobody really knows. Safety reasons, he assumes. Maybe he’ll have to take an oath before he leaves. An I-swear-not-to-tell-anyone-about-your-children-whom-I’m-painting oath.

If there are others, he assumes they’ve never left the North. Lucas can’t imagine. Though, to be fair, he can’t really imagine living in the North full stop. It’s common knowledge that everyone here is rich, richer than Lucas could ever hope to be. (Part of him is glad; he doubts anyone at his status could survive this weather. He shivers just looking out the window, though it’s cosy enough inside the train.)

The snow outside looks like it’s glowing. Lucas can’t even see the ground outside, or the gravel under the train tracks. If there are hills and mountains and trees, Lucas will have to wait until the morning to see them. If the morning ever comes. He glances around the compartment, forgetting about the lack of clocks, and sighs, wondering what time it is. After drifting in and out of sleep, seeing the world in a way he’s only seen in paintings, time feels like it’s fluid, like it’s flowing and rushing, and Lucas has lost track. It could be midnight or it could be six am.

He supposes it doesn’t matter, though, when he arrives at the castle. Or rather, the time of day is definitely not the most important thing going on his mind.

The fucking castle.

Lucas stops thinking when he sees it outside the train window, snowflakes falling like flashes of white light, the castle looking like it’s glowing, like the light from the sky is being stored inside.

It’s the biggest building Lucas has ever seen, bigger than the mansions and manors Lucas paints in. He doesn’t know what he was expecting if he’s honest, but a part of him is saying Yeah, that makes sense.

Another part of him in angry. Angry that these people (because that’s all they are: other living, breathing humans just like Lucas and the others) are living in a home with more rooms that they can use, more space than they can take up, more food than they can eat, more air than they can breathe, and Lucas has friends who skip breakfast because they save food for dinner. One of Lucas’s shirts is a hand-me-down from his friend’s dad.

But he stares in awe, forgetting his anger. A few of the windows glow gold against the white, like the insides of it are on fire.

Lucas exhales, a slow Woah that fogs up the window, and he quickly rubs the glass with his arm, watching as the castle comes closer, becomes clearer. He briefly wonders how he would go about painting it. It would need lots of blues.

It’s not until he’s making his way down the halls, following two posh-looking men who are carrying his bags, that it really sets in that he’s staying here. Not for long, of course, just for a week or two to finish the portraits, but it’s still somehow absurd to him.

The men lead him to a bedroom at the end of a long hallway. They go in first, struggling and stumbling through a slightly-too-narrow doorway with his bulky bags, and he hangs back, watching worriedly and uncomfortably for a second before looking away.

There’s a corner just outside the room, leading to an open stairwell. It looks dark, and a little dustier than the golden, glowing parts of the palace Lucas has seen. He glances up, and in the shadows and nighttime it looks endless, like it leads into a void. Lucas wants to go exploring.

But his name is called by one of the men (he can’t tell which), and he goes back.

The room is dark, except for the faint streaks of light coming in from the window, gold reflections off the snow outside, but Lucas can see well enough to glance around. It’s small in regards to the rest of the building, and dingy, neglected and ignored. It’s still the size of Lucas’s living room.

His lips purse in that same frustrated expression, and he takes a deep breath. It smells old.

“You’ll be called for tomorrow,” one of the men says, and Lucas turns around. He still can’t tell which one said it.

“Okay,” he says.

The men nod and leave.

Lucas sighs again, and he’s almost sure the slight disturbance blows up dust that’s settled on the crackly wood floor. He finds a candle on the desk (which rocks when he touches it; one of the legs is shorter than the rest) and lights it with a pack of matches laying next to it.

Even with the snowlight and candlelight it’s still dim, but it’s bright enough for Lucas to navigate around the room. The floor creaks under his weight, and it’s almost eerie in the desolate silence of the hall. He wonders what the other rooms down the hall are for. More guest rooms? They must not have guests very often based on the maintenance.

He unpacks, carefully setting an easel against a chest at the door of his bed. He doesn’t put anything in the chest, deciding to set his suitcase on top of it, open and resting against the wall. The tubes of paint go on the desk, sorted by colour, and he sharpens the pencils, gathering the shavings into a little pile on the desk when he can’t find a bin.

He changes into his sleep clothes, setting his clothing in his suitcase after folding them neatly and blowing out the candle. When he lays down in the bed, he realises how cold it is. And that there’s no fireplace. He falls asleep shivering.

#i SAID i have too many wips #and i have an extensive list of things to draw #also wtwe is still in progress i promise #im too passionate about it to give it up #i dont have an update schedule at all tho be warned #i might update next week and i might update in a month #well find out when we find out #anyway remember to drink water and eat st yummy #and stretch your wrists and neck and take any meds you have #i love you xx #wtfock #skam nl #wtfock fanfic #skam nl fanfic #vds #van der stoffels #jens stoffels #lucas vdh #lucas van der heijden

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irrfahrer · 4 years ago

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Wookiepedia on Healing Plants

Read the Original Texts Here, Here, Here, Here, Here, Here, Here, Here , Here, Here, Here, Here, Here, Here, Here , Here, Here, Here, Here , Here, Here, Here, Here and Here!

Senoti The senoti was a species of tree native to the Outer Rim world New Canistel. The deep-rooted trees required an alkaline soil in which to grow, and produced a sap that was used for medicinal purposes. The trees were also found off New Canistel, with a small number growing wild on Endor. These were believed by Xenoarborists to be survivors from two Canistel AgriStar freighters that were lost in the Moddell sector. Endor's native Ewoks regarded the tree as holy due to its healing properties, and in 3 ABY, the Warrick family of Ewoks used senoti sap in a medicine administered to the shipwrecked youngling, Cindel Towani. Several senoti trees also grew in the Xenobotanical Garden of Garqi; however, these were burnt down during the first year of the Yuuzhan Vong War. The senoti was a species of tree.Mature senoti had brown, rough, gnarled bark, and could reach a girth several times that of an Ewok.The trees grew deep roots and required alkaline soil in order to thrive. Senoti seeds planted in acidic soil only grew into scrubby plants, if they survived at all. The senoti produced a watery sap, which had analgesic properties and could quell fevers. Kelari Lily The Kelari Lily was a rare Flower that could be used to treat battlefield injuries.Lorren Morrick sent a rebel patrol out to find Kelari Lilies because her medical supplies were running short.

Nysillin Nysillin, also known as sillum, or nysillim, was a healing herb grown as a common crop plant across the galaxy. On the planet Felucia, it was harvested by Casiss's farming village during the Clone Wars. Hondo Ohnaka's gang of pirates threatened the village into giving away a portion of the herbs, a portion they could not afford to give up, so Casiss hired a group of bounty hunters to fight them. They were soon joined by the Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano, who trained the Felucians to fight for themselves, prompting Ohnaka to give up.

Ice Mushrooms Ice mushrooms were found on various planets throughout the galaxy, including Neshtab. It appeared to have healing or analgesic properties, at least in Humans. Greybush The Greybush was a ground hugging bush native to the planet Dathomir. The Singing Mountain Clan used leaves of this herbal plant for their healing properties while the Nightsisters used them to cause harm. Redweed Redweed was a fern with a distinctive red coloration native to the planet Dathomir. The Singing Mountain Clan used leaves of this herbal plant for their healing properties while the Nightsisters used them to cause harm.

Lesset Plant Lesset plant was a broad-leafed red-veined plant native to the planet Dathomir. The Singing Mountain Clan used leaves of this herbal plant for their healing properties while the Nightsisters used them to cause harm. It could often be found in the dense forests at the bottom of many valleys.

Ongmuel Plant The Ongmuel plant was a herbal plant with leaves that resembled dangling spiders native to the planet Dathomir. The Singing Mountain Clan used leaves of the Ongmuel plant for their healing properties while the Nightsisters used them to cause harm.

Rinor Rinor was a herbal plant with blade-like leaves native to the planet Dathomir. The Singing Mountain Clan used Rinor leaves for their healing properties while the Nightsisters used them to cause harm.

Barenth Healing Plant The Barenth healing plant was a endangered, natural, healing plant from Barenth. When a Ho'Din healer named Baji came to Barenth, he encountered them in an ancient laboratory. He observed them and tried to stay to continue observation and to eventually use them for healing purposes. Unfortunately, an earthquake struck and Baji was forced to leave. He grabbed some of them and left. Later, he came back only to find the sanctuary crushed. The plants were not destroyed, but badly contaminated. Baji had made a tough decision; he decided that for all his life, he would stay and help the remaining plants.

Savarium Herb The savorium herb was a kind of plant made by the Ithorian botanist Zorneth and another botanist, a Human named Klorr Vilia. When eaten, it would replace one's mind with nothing but peace and joy, and would give the consumer a new sense of submission and lack of inhibitions. Those under the influence of the herb were often referred to as Smilers due to the perpetual grins on their faces. It is said to be given the term "slave drug" considering slavers, pirates and other criminal personnel would have favored its mind-altering abilities.After Klorr had tried it, Zorneth wanted to mass-produce it so everyone would be happy. However, Vilia sacrificed himself to destroy all of the savorium herbs.There were rumors of savorium herb still existing, involving secret harvesting plantations in the galaxy, but it was unproved.

Viptiel Viptiel was a plant native to Nal Hutta. It was known for its therapeutic properties to the X'Ting for its hormone-balancing effects during that species' transition from one gender to the other; however, very few could afford it. Vippits also used viptiel as a medicinal supplement, especially during their mating periods. Twin-Scented Natterbloom The Twin-Scented Natterbloom was a rare medicinal herb native to the planet Talus. The plant exuded a pungent smell in its early growth, which changed during blooming season when the herb gave off a sweet citrus scent.The Drall hoped that the Natterbloom may prove to be a cure of an ancient Drall disease, the Balding Sickness. Some victims resisted bacta treatment, forcing the Drall to search for alternate solutions. With the help of the local Dearic Garden Club and a helpful spacer, the Drall ambassador to Talus Champhra Biahin was able to procure a sample of the Twin-Scented Natterbloom for further research.

Luna Weed Luna-weed was a plant native to Aduba-3. If chewed, it could produce delusional effects in the user. It gave rise to the phrase "chewing the luna-weed" when referring to someone who was acting crazy.

Guroot Guroot was a type of plant that could be grinded into powder and consumed. Many beings believed that consuming powdered guroot was good for one's health. Pommwomm Pommwomm plants were a hot-world shrub native to the Sif'kric system's inner planet. If they were properly processed within thirty hours of picking, they could be made into at least eight different medicinal substances, and at least sixteen different natural flavorings. Export of pommwomm plants made up about 20% of the Sif'kric economy.

Grey Gabaki A plant named for its drab color when dried, Grey Gabaki gives off a light and relaxing smoke when burned. It is commonly used in cantinas, but some merchants also burn it to make store fronts a more relaxing environment for customers.

Star Urchin Quill "Star urchin quills" was the name given by Ewok shamans to the venomous quills of the fftssfft, a species of semi-sapient plants also known as the "dandelion warriors." Despite their potentially lethal nature, those star-shaped quills could be used in traditional Ewok medicine.

Santherian TenHo Root Santherian tenho-root was a plant whose extract was also a potent drug. It was often used by abusers who desired a sense of escapism. When taking the drug, users often described it's effects as similar to that of watching a sunset.The extract was immensely effective on Falleen, who would experience intense psychotropic attacks after taking it.

Algarine Torve Weed Algarine torve weed was a kind of plant native to the Algaran system and could be used as a synthetic mood enhancer.

Relkass The Relkass sentinel plant was one of many cacti native to the planet of Relkass.The sentinel plant only bloomed during the planet's dry season. It also contained a chemical compound, which acted as a powerful narcotic. Even small amounts of the compound could drive a Draagax into a horrible madness.

Behot Behot was a species of herb that grew on the planet Mandalore. The herb was citrus-flavored and grew rapidly, making it the favored choice of ingredients for the Mandalorian beverage shig, a tisane brewed from a number of herbs. Behot was mildly antiseptic and stimulating, and capable of soothing an upset stomach. Shig brewed from behot possessed an amber color and the herb's citrus flavor. In 20 BBY, the Null-class ARC trooper Mereel used behot herbs in the shig he brewed for a pregnant Etain Tur-Mukan in order to help settle her stomach.bMereel's adopted father, Kal Skirata, also enjoyed a mug of behot-flavored shig when looking to calm his nerves. By the end of the Clone Wars, members of the anti-Imperial resistance on Toprawa had taken to growing behot locally on the Outer Rim world, using it to make their own shig. Resistance leader Degan Cor developed a fondness for shig brewed from behot, as did several of his rebel colleagues.

Kibo The Kibo was a rare, purple flowering plant native to Yavin 4. Its scent was strong and sweet and the seeds of the Kibo could restore sight.When Trioculus attacked Yavin 4 in 5 ABY, the fires he started brought the Kibo to the brink of extinction. Many years later, Galactic Alliance Chief of State Cal Omas kept a Kibo blossom in bronzium vase on his desk.

Bota Bota was a rare plant species native to very few planets in the galaxy such as Drongar. It was highly valued during the Clone Wars, as it had certain medicinal effects for each species and supposedly gave Jedi a stronger connection to the Force. It would become useless some time after it left the planet unless it was frozen in carbonite.

#inspiration #DO I FOUND EVERY HEALING PLANT???#bless wookiepedia this list is amazing *-*#star wars plants

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emptymasks · 5 years ago

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Wither and Wilt

Pairing: Rudolf von Österreich-Ungarn | Rudolf Crown Prince of Austria/Der Tod | Death

(as in Rudolf has a crush on Der Tod, it’s up to you whether Der Tod truly returns his affections, I wrote it that he does truly like Rudolf but you’re welcome to interpret it anyway you like)

Words: 2032

Rating: General Audiences

Read on Ao3 @ emptymasks. I can’t put the link or tumblr blocks the post.

Notes: Death is based on Uwe Kröger's Der Tod from the original 1992 production, with a little bit of inspiration also drawn from the Hungarian production's A Halal. You could probably picture anyone as Rudolf, I kept imagining Andreas Bieber and Lukas Perman's portrayals while writing it. Death is genderfluid in this because 1. I'm genderfluid and I see Uwe's death as genderfluid and that representation matters a lot to me , and 2. Uwe literally descried his Der Tod as fluid in gender and sexuality. So there's your canon genderfluid, pansexual Death.

So... you will most likely laugh when I say how i got the idea for this fic, that after having several WIP's for various Elisabeth fics, I ended up writing this because, right, I was playing Animal Crossing and of course I've made several of Uwe's and Máté's Der Tod costumes for me to wear in the game and while wearing my 'Uwe Tod Jacket' I put a white wildflower in my hair and literally had to leave the game so I could right this because the idea came straight away.

It was unusually sunny for April. Sunlight peaked in out of the tree branches of the gardens, casting speckles of stained glass windows onto the grass. The many flowers and shrubs only sought to pair with the weather and make the most pleasant day of the year so far.

It was the weather that had driven Rudolf outside. He loved the fresh air, loved feeling it on his skin, despite how his family would prefer him cooped up inside. (Though they always seemed to want him inside when he wanted to be outside, and outside when he wanted to be inside. Forever wanting for him whatever he wished for the least.) He'd forgone a jacket or coat, allowing the breeze to flutter against his white shirt that billowed out as he moved.

A glimpse of sunlight and a walk alone through the gardens was one of the few pleasures in life Rudolf had at the moment. One of the few things that was just his. He was fortunate that the spring air hadn't coaxed anyone else outside and he got to enjoy all of it to himself.

Although... there was one person who couldn't damper his walks, only increase the joy Rudolf found on them. And as if he'd been waiting for Rudolf to think of him, the wind turned bitterly too cold for a moment and a pair of footsteps were at his side.

They didn't speak for a while. They didn't need to. Rudolf found comfort in his old friend simply being by his side, he needn't do anything. They walked in tandem until they came to a small clearly populated by wildflowers and Rudolf could feel the wind high on his cheeks.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" His voice was quiet, as if afraid it was a stupid thing to say.

"Quite," Death's reply was soft and it called to Rudolf like a siren and he turned his head to find Death wasn't staring at the clearly, he was simply starting at Rudolf.

Rudolf felt his mouth part and cheeks flush and he didn't know how to prolong the moment and he definitely didn't want to say anything that would cause Death to leave. He walked a few paces more.

"Would you like to sit with me for a while? It doesn't have to be long, I know you're always busy, and you shouldn't feel like you have to spend any time with me and..." Rudolf trailed off as Death sat down at his feet.

"I assure you, Rudolf, I wouldn't be wasting my time by spending it with anyone I like."

"Oh..." He winced at how stupid he sounded. "Alright then."

He sat down opposite Death, not close enough to touch, afraid of what would happen if they did but also longing to know. Death turned his head and looked out across the gardens and Rudolf took the chance to stare.

Out of all the times Death had come to him, only a couple of them had been outside of his bedroom. (Not that that had any implications, he pleaded at his heart). The few times they'd been outdoors had been at night or in the evening, the light low and dark, Death rivalling the moon with his glow.

This was the first time he'd ever seen Death in the daylight.

Rudolf felt like he had to hold his breath as he gazed. The sun made Death's hair a more buttercup yellow, more colourful than he'd ever seen it, and only highlighted how pale his skin was even more. Where human's skin would darken a red colour, his seemed to be... blue. Rudolf thought about how impossible that was, but this was Death. For all he knew Death's blood was blue, if he even had blood at all. Light gleamed off his skin and it almost looked as if there were tiny, intricate crystals along his cheekbones, glistening and shimmering.

He didn't know what Death could be looking at, and realised Death very well might not be looking at anything at all. He may just be content to let Rudolf stare. And so Rudolf tore his gaze away and looked down. The more colourful flowers had given way to ones of pure white and Rudolf plucked one up with an idea. A stupid, childish idea that Rudolf found himself acting on.

“Here,” Rudolf reached up, the pale white flower trembling in his hand, and tucked it behind Death’s ear. “White looks nice on you.”

Death’s face cracked for a second, broke out of its usual cold and calm expression into one of quiet shock, and then the smallest smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Why, thank you, my little prince,” He spoke and Rudolf thought about how often Death’s voice sounded like it was only for him, as if everything Death said to him was their own little secret. A black gloved hand reached towards the bundle of white wildflowers in Rudolf’s hands. “Why don’t you match with me?”

Rudolf’s hands jerked back and Death’s face morphed back to looking cold. He tilted his head. Always so curious about humans and their funny little worries.

The cold gaze lingered on Rudolf, he could feel it baring down on him as he looked at his hands.

He hadn’t meant to react as quickly and sharply as that. Should he explain himself? He wished sometimes Death would just ask him things more often, but Death was so content to just sit and wait until Rudolf was ready to share and that just caused more anxiety to swirl around in Rudolf’s stomach. What if Death wasn’t really waiting until he was ready to speak? What if Death just didn’t want to know and if Rudolf opened his mouth he’d just be bothering another person, disappointing another person, words and ideas tumbling out of his lips before he can stop them, his passion seen as immaturity and naivety. What if Death was merely humouring him, and as soon as Rudolf spilled his heart all over porcelain skin and black velvet, he was met with jeers; His mother sat on her throne as Death coiled around from behind her and leaned into her ear, lips brushing against skin, heat and temptation and desire pouring out of his mouth as she looked down on him in scorn.

A sudden coldness brushed against his hand, then slowly pressed down and Rudolf fought the urge to shiver.

Death’s hand laid bare against his own.

He knew of course, that all that was ever under those gloves were hands, just ordinary hands (well ordinary looking hands), but he half had expected something monstrous. Perhaps gnarled or scared skin. Perhaps a blue glow that seemed to linger around Death just as he would enter or leave his visits. Perhaps claws.

Instead pristinely manicured nails decorated the soft, albeit cold, skin that rested against him. Death was a prideful being. He still had his head slightly tilted, eye’s deciphering a puzzle.

“This is about more than you not wanting to wear flowers in your hair…?” Death said it like he himself quiet sure he was asking a question.

“It’s…” Rudolf felt like he’d surfaced out of water and had the urge to take gasping breaths. “It’s not that I don’t want to… It’s… It’s not something a man does.”

“According to whom?” Rudolf forced himself to keep still, even as he thought he heard Death almost chuckle.

“Grandmother said-”

“Oh, your family and their silly, little ideas-”

“Grandmother said that men don’t wear flowers. Flowers and pretty things are for women and girls to wear and for men to admire.” Rudolf was surprised at how he continued to talk over Death. From anyone else he would have received a reprimand, but Death looked proud.

“…You’ve put one in my hair.”

“Yes, well, to be honest I’m never really quite sure if you’re a man.”

He didn’t mistake Death chuckling at that.

“I’m never quite sure of that myself, either. I find it tends to change with the wind," And Death got Rudolf to chuckle in return. "So, tell me,” He leaned forward and got that glint in his eyes as if he’d just spotted an opportunity to gain something, some new piece of information or emotion. “Is it wrong for me to be wearing it? Or are you seeing me as a pretty woman to be admired by your masculine gaze?”

Rudolf could feel his face heating up.

“Or perhaps, my dear prince, you don’t think it’s only women who should be admired?” Rudolf tried to pull his hands back, but Death had a firm grip on them. “It’s alright, it’s quite alright. I’m truly flattered. And, let me tell you this because I think you need to hear it, it’s perfectly normal. There’s nothing wrong with it. Your grandmother’s opinions on the other hand… Who is she to say what you can and cannot wear? My future emperor,” Death reached out with his gloveless hand and brushed his fingers over Rudolf’s cheek and he shivered. “Only you are in charge of what you do, how you choose to dress, and who you choose to be.”

He held Death's gaze for what felt like an eternity. Everything seemed to be waltzing around them as they themselves where held captive in their own dance, twirling as the world fell down around them.

Death seemed like he was waiting for something. Rudolf sat, frozen, and Death retracted his hand.

"I think you'd look rather fetching..." Death murmured as if talking to himself, but well aware that Rudolf could hear him. His fingers skated over the flowers standing proud from the ground, ghosting over them but never touching. The flowers almost seemed to bend out of his way, as if they knew who he was, what he could do.

Their eyes met with a challenge in Death's that said 'pick one'. Rudolf's hands moved blindly as he wrapped his fingers against what he hoped was a flower and tugged. He'd thought his hands had been shaking when he tucked one behind Death's ear, but it was nothing compared to how much they were quivering now.

"Will you...?" Rudolf held his hands forward and Death hesitated for a moment, fingers twitching. Was there a reason why he hadn't just picked one himself and placed it in Rudolf's hair? Rudolf knew what Death's kiss could do, and he'd wondered if the reason Death wore gloves was the same. But he'd just been touching Rudolf, and he was still alive.

Death's eyes flickered between the flower and Rudolf's eyes, before he leaned forwards. He picked the flower up carefully by its stem and slid his finger and thumb together, causing the flower to twirl around. He watched it with a curiosity Rudolf would have described as 'child-like' if it wasn't Death he was trying to describe.

He was almost mesmerised by the spinning of the flower that he almost didn't notice it at first. The flower was drooping ever so slightly. He thought perhaps Death's group was just squashing its stem, but it seemed to keep drooping and drooping. Death moved his hand and Rudolf followed with his eyes as the flower was drawn up to Death's face.

White petals brushed over cold lips.

The flower yielded.

It furled in on itself and faded, the top of the stem turning a pale, rusted brown. Death's hand moved and Rudolf was amazed that the petals didn't fall out. Perhaps somehow Death was keeping them in there? Rudolf expected cold brush against his ear, but none came. Death was still moving, picking and plucking more flowers, and as he wove them together they cried out and wilted. He closed up the chain and held it up, inspecting it, before shifting his gaze back to Rudolf.

Death raised himself up into his knees and placed the circle dead flowers on Rudolf's head.

"There," Death said. "A crown fit for an emperor. My emperor."

There was a sound like the ghost of a snapping branch and Death turned his head.

And then he was gone, and Rudolf was alone, frozen as the petals started to fall from his head.

#elisabeth das musical #der tod #elisabeth the musical #elisabeth musical #todolf #crown prince rudolf #mywriting #mine

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weaselsmuses-aa · 5 years ago

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Typhoon Island Villager HCS [final]

Emma

Age: 21

Island occupation: Island Representative. Though she’s called a shady representative by many.

Sexuality: Bi.

Friends: All of her villagers of course! (though she does have her favorites, namely Punchy, Antonio and Bamikins.)

Very hard working. Is almost always running form one side of the island with new ideas for how to improve things

When she isn’t terraforming, pathing or planting, she’s hanging out with Punchy and her friends.

A gracious host, according to her. She wants all guests to check in with her first and foremost. Gets a little grumpy when someone doesn’t follow that rule.

Terrorizing Isabelle is her hobby, gets her through the day.

Loves rain, storms and fog the most.

Favorite season is winter. (Totally not because she can make the whole month of december about her.)

Has been bickering with Isabelle so long she’s accidentally befriended her. (easier to torment her that way)

Rumored to be good friends/has close ties with Redd. (How else did he get here?)

House has an incredibly ominous vibe. Something about it just isn’t quite right.

Is a great asset when you’re friends with her, when you aren’t though....

Almost always with Antonio and Bam (Three musketeers vibe) or Punchy.,

Doesn’t get along with Julian too well. Almost always yelling at him/swearing at him under her breath.

Misses sloppy furniture damnit.

“ I don’t know about the missing people or the blood, stop asking about it.”

Bellionare.

Punchy

Age: 23

Island occupation: Professional Slacker. (sometimes he’ll help Emma garden and clean the beach though)

Sexuality: Bi at best.

Friends: Bob [bff], Kid Cat, Beau, Antonio, Weasel, Stitches. && ofc Emma.

The FavoriteTM.

Representative’s Pet.

Probably dating Emma

Absolute precious sweetheart

Naive, lazy, but can be sarcastic and snarky when you know him well enough.

Huge heart.

Snacks on snacks on snacks on snacks

Can be a cry baby at times.

Very affectionate with his friends

Usually seen in his yard, by the playground or in Emma’s orchard.

Favorite color is blue, Favorite activity is sunbathing and naps

You look in his home and you’ll be able to tell how much of a favorite he is.

Has nothing but good things to say about Emma. (Seriously shes all he talks about.)

Kind of scared of Bam. He doesn’t get along with him well, for ...obvious reasons.

Popular but didn’t ask to be. He’s just sweet and easy to love!

Really loves cherries. A lot. Seriously. Fastest way to the little kittys heart.

Also pretty good friends with Monsun key’s Lapis, asks about her sometimes.

Bam

Age: 20

Island Occupation: Has a part time job at the museum dusting and helping out with the fossils.

Sexuality: Pretty het.

Friends: Emma, Ky, Swiss, Antonio, Kid Cat, Beau, Cheri, Getting to know Lucky.

Big brother vibes with a pretty bad temper if you know how to strike a nerve.

Best friends with the Island Rep and Antonio

Seems to be the island’s favorite target for teasing.

Gets along well with everyone …….except Punchy and Bob.

Avidly and openly does not like Punchy, its most likely due to jealousy. It’s also rumored the reason his his very blatant crush on Emma

Only person he likes less than Punchy is Bob as he is quote ‘an asshole’. (Its usually just Bob returning the favor though for Bam being a dick to Punchy).

Usually seen working out on the Beach, doing Yoga in the square, or taking walks. Really loves the Light house, the orchards and the Playground.

Known to be a little overbearing with his attitude problems when he doesn’t like someone. (He’s been seen walking around punchy’s house,and has hit him on a few occasions)

Is either your friend and super nice, or doesn’t like you and can be a dick.

Hangs out with Cheri and Beau a lot when his two right hand pals aren’t available.

Secretly wishes Brewster would come open a shop.

Beau

Age: 22

Sexuality: Pan.

Island occupation: Got a part time gardening position from Lief. Also helps the nooklings arrange their shop displays.

Friends: Topaz, Emma, Ky, Punchy, Bam, Stitches, Lucky, Julian

Sleepy eyed sweetheart.

Very Peaceful and kind, doesn’t like to see anyone fighting and wants everyone to get along.

Definitely the type to always say yes.

Rustic mountain town vibe. Really likes nature and long hikes.

Favorite season is winter.

Best friend’s are Topaz, Punchy, and Bam.

Talks to Blathers and Celeste a lot, very interested in natural history and astronomy.

Goal is to be good friends with everyone on the island. The only one he’s having trouble with is Antonio. He can’t quite figure him out yet.

Likes to have Tea with the island rep on Sundays.

Always wanted to be like the reindeer he’s seen on TV. He admires the lifestyle and aesthetic despite being an antelope.

Has a baby blanket he’s very attached to.

Loves kids, and babysits Kid cat and stitches often, he thinks they’re very sweet.

Plants trees, flowers and shrubs a lot. He really wants to make the island feel more woodsy.

Favorite spot is the museum, orchards and star gazing spot.

Julian

Age: 28

Sexuality: Gay Trans Icon.

Island occupation: He worked at the able sisters for a little while but they had to let him go because he went overboard and tried to control everything. He’s thinking about applying at brewsters.

Friends: Kyanite! Topaz, Beau, Cheri, Punchy & Bob (sorta)

Narcissitic, Dramatic and self obsessed.

Only thing he loves more than himself, is a good book and singing.

Really loves to look good, and is constantly indecisive about what he wears.

Has an aesthetic and will NOT let you mess with it. Seriously, don’t give him furniture, he’ll give it away.

BFF is Ky.

He also gets along with Beau and Cheri. He can appreciate Beau’s simple pleasures in life, and his kindness. Cheri and him relate on pop culture and music.

Gossips constantly, cannot keep a secret to save his life, and only wants to know your business to talk about it.

Very loving friend once your’e close to him, and will likely only break his ‘peaceful’ face, for a friend. Pissing him off is hard to decipher most of the time, as he finds it beneath him to show ‘savage’ emotions.

Claims to be magic, but no one knows if he actually is, or he just uses his species to say that.

Usually seen in the square seeking attention, following others to eavesdrop, or at home either inside, or in his yard reading or writing.

Doesn’t seem to get along with Spinel too well. He tried to be friends with her but when it didn’t work out he just decided to mess with her for fun.

Dreads double visits from Ky and her girlfriend. As they mess with his lights until they break. Blames Spinel for encouraging it.

Very curious about Lucky and Stitches but kind of creeped out by them. He snoops on them when given the chances to do so though.

Loves the stargazing spot and Ky’s picnic area. He does enjoy a good stroll on the beach too when he isn’t shopping for stuff.

Cannot be without attention for too long, he will shove himself into your conversations, your day, and the town square and tell you gossip or start singing.

Wishes there were more people on the island that he could relate to.

Cheri

Age: 22

Sexuality: She like gurls

Island occupation: Has a part time job doing island clean up for Tom on the weekends. Thinking about asking the nooks to get her a part time job at the shop.

Friends: Pearl (Monsun key), Marina (Monsun key), Emma, Lapis (monsun key), Weasel , Bam, Bob, Julian, Punchy (they bonded over music recently), Lucky (slowly but surely shes giving her lots of gifts and being in general sweet and cheri cant okay.)

Zero bullshit tolerance.

Sarcastic, snarky and loud, but a very loyal friend

Rap, Rock and Metal are her life

House so red you will forget what other colors are.

Rumored that she’s got an album, no one on the island knows if what she says is true.

Good friends with Bam, Bob and Julian.

Usually in the square Jamming or Hanging out on the Beach.

Pretty good friends with the Island Representative, isn’t really into all the gossip about her.

Thinks Kid Cat is cute, but also isn’t big on watching kids, so you know.

Good friends with Weasel, likes to talk to them every once and a while.

Literally don’t start an argument with her, you WILL lose.

‘ im a bad bitch, you cant kill me’

What the hell is stitches? What the fuck happened to lucky? IS anyone going to actually acknowledge how fucked up this is?? hello???

All concerns aside, she thinks both stitches and lucky are very sweet but seriously wtf.

Rapping in the square with her friends is the shit for her okay. She loves it. Has asked Emma to throw a rapping party to which she replied ‘eh.’

Leather jackets and cool clothes are just as important as looking cute as hell!

Talks about Raymond moving like it was the best thing to happen to mankind, and his existence on typhoon island like a bad dream. (she still holdin a grudge)

Antonio

Age: He....wont tell. well guess 25

Sexuality: Doesn’t talk about it.

Island occupation: Typhoon Island ditch digger.......he digs the graves. At least thats his supposed job. He’s seen some shit. Surely.

Friends: Emma, Bam, Swiss, Bob, Stitches, Lucky, Ky

One does not simply get rid of him

Is he all there or is he not?

Vacant stare

Either ramblings of insanity or way too meddling

Everyone calls him crazy but….he knows all the dirty laundry.

Usually in the square….listening..and watching

Favorite Song is K.K. Dirge

Digs the graves for the grave yard and probably puts up the missing signs.

Always seems to pop up out of nowhere. At the most..unnerving moments.

One of the least social, yet most involved somehow.

What are you hiding antonio?

Bob

Age: 24

Sexuality: Bi.

Island occupation: Doesn’t have one. Works booorring. Give him some games and food any day.

Friends: Punchy (BFF), Emma, Lapis (Monsun Key), Weasel, Kid cat, Stitches, Lucky, Beau is okay

Absolute Meme-er

BFF is Punchy

Constant jokes, no matter his mood. Is he serious? Is he not? good luck figuring that out.

The popular kid on the island, but he doesn’t really care.

Also good pals with Swiss.

Give him a dare and he will do it. Every time

Older than the island rep and talks about it alot like its a personality trait.

Play fights you.

Sarcasm for days.

Affectionately bullies you softly

Annoys Antonio for laughs

Pisses Bam off on purpose (they dont get along)

Favorite spot is the playground , the pool and the beach.

Thinks stitches and lucky are super friggin cool. So what if they’re a little weird? That’s what makes them so awesome.

Affectionately messes with cheri when shes’ trying to sing or rap in the square.

Kind of avoids julian because he doesn’t like how he talks down to him

Got kicked out of nooks cranny a couple times. Who even knows why.

Kid cat

Age: 12

Friends: Stitches, Emma, Weasel, Ky, Punchy, Bob, Bam, Antonio, Lucky, Beau, Cheri. (So like everyone.)

Is, as his name would suggest, A kid.

Absolute trash heap of a house. Like He actually lives like this?

The island rep felt bad for him and built him a nice bed. He’s very attached to it.

Best friend’s are Bam, Kody and Weasel.

Sees Bam as a big brother.

Wants everyone on the island to be friends.

Considers himself a super hero, always wants to be the one to save the day and help people with their problems.

Hangs out on the playground, claims the jungle gym as his ‘base’.

If he isn’t there he hangs out in the square trying to spread his ‘heroisms’

Wide eyed optimist

NARUTO RUNNING AROUND YOU.

Is probably going to stay up past his bed time. Whos going to stop him

Claims the ninja turtles live under his house.

Misses Raymond. Says the island is ‘missing its dad’

Stitches

Age: Ageless, but comes off as a 6-10 year old

Island occupation: Doing whatever Emma tells him.

Friends: Emma, Punchy, Topaz, Kid Cat, Weasel, Beau, Lucky, Bob

A mash up of many different bears and animals before him. All of whom met an untimely end by the hands of the creature.

Is not aware of how he came to be, and it is in Emma’s best interest to keep it that way. She will make sure you don’t tell him.

Can’t see very well, and can’t speak. Instead is telepathic, and can speak in sign language if need be. You will be able to hear his voice, but his mouth will never move.

Doesn’t come out of his house too terribly often, and is not allowed out after dark.

Favorite activity is playing pretend! He loves his toys and his blocks, and sometimes will go over to kid cats or weasels to play pretend with them.

Refers to the island representative as a mother, which .....disturbs and disconcerns most.

really close with lucky. They relate on a lot of....similar misfortunes. They can also speak to each other privately through mystical means without interruption or eavesdropping from others.

Is as name would suggest, stitched up. Sometimes the seams come undone and his stuffing comes out. (Yes hes actually full of ...just stuffing.) stuffin’!

Seems to be alive by sheer paranormal means. There is nothing in him keeping him ticking biologically.

Wants to be friends with isabelle, but notices he frightens her, so he avoids town hall.

Favorite spots are his room, the picnic by kys house, and the playground. (He wants to learn the monkeybars!)

Really looks up to Punchy, and wants him to help teach him the ways of the world....though punchy may NOT be the best rolemodel.

Afraid of Bam and Antonio, but is put under their care often.

Lucky

Age: ......we aren’t sure. Shes been dead a while. The only one who might know is emma.

Island occupation: Haunting the island after dark. (She’d help out if anyone would hire her.)

Friends: Stitches, Emma, Bob, Beau, Swiss

Is as ‘luck’ would have it, dead. She’s a spirit.

Rumored first victim of the typhoon island serial killer. She’s been dead a while, as her house would show, she’s not had the privilege of living for quite some time now.

Her bandages are a permanent feature, and theres a rumor floating around that without it, there wouldn’t be much left to her---besides those piercing haunting eyes of course.

Has a very sweet, soft spoken voice. Almost as quiet as a distant whisper.

Very good friends with Emma. Follows her around almost....an unnatural amount. Almost as if...she’s got some sort of attachment to her.

Has a grave in her back yard, which was not naturally there prior. Seems to have dug it herself. A comfort thing perhaps since to present knowledge she was never given proper burial.

A very kind dog, and very helpful if you give her the chance and look past her....otherworldly appearance.

Loves stitches like a baby brother, almost always hanging out with him more than anyone else, will protect him feircly.

Self conscious about her state of being dead, just wants to make friends and live a happy afterlife since hers was taken from her.

Loves gardening, though all her flowers turn into black roses....or die.

Favorite spot is the graveyard, the forest, and Emma’s orchards.

Thinks her and Isabelle would get along good! If....Isabelle didn’t run away from her.

Really loves K.K. Slider concerts. Always wants to be the first to attend them. Can he see her though? She’s not sure sometimes.

#HCs #;Typhoon Isle #(Interests);Emma #IT IS DONE.

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atamascolily · 5 years ago

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I never actually read Junior Jedi Knights #1: The Golden Globe by Nancy Richardson before, so I figured I’d give it a shot. Like most of Star Wars Legends, it is a trip, but in a fun, if confusing way.

The academy was built to train people to become Jedi Knights, protectors of freedom and justice. Only beings who had shown they were skilled in working with the Force had been invited to attend the academy. Anakin was one of those chosen to attend the first session created for younger children and aliens.

So... Jedi Hogwarts, then. The first Harry Potter book was published in Britain in 1997 and in the US in 1998, and this book was published October 1, 1995, so it actually predates Hogwarts, but I’m still calling it that.

Leia “can’t bear” to have all three kids away at Jedi Hogwarts at the same time, so now it’s Anakin’s term. I’m raising my eyebrows because Leia is a politician assuming she’s not actually Chief of State right now; she’s super-busy and Winter took care of the kids for much of their childhood. It does explain why we never see anyone from the YJK books in this series, and the good-bye scene between Anakin, Leia, and Han is 300% more believable and heart-warming than anything in the Disney ST, so I approve.

Also, here’s some world-building for all your Yavin 4 fics:

“The Great Temple hasn’t been changed much on the outside,” Luke said. He had sensed his nephew’s curiosity. “But we had to change the inside in order to create the academy rooms. We’ve divided some spaces into sleeping and refresher units for you and your classmates. And we’ve hung heavy drapes above the open windows. The windows in the Temple have no glass because the climate here is so warm that we rarely need it. However, every few months we have terrible storms. The temperature drops and rain and winds whip through the jungle. When that happens the heavy drapes keep the temple warm and dry. There’s one place that we haven’t touched, though-the Grand Audience Chamber at the top of the Temple. All of the instructors and students here agree that it is just too beautiful to change,” Luke explained.

(And then everyone who’s seen the movie would be confused! LOL)

HAVE I MENTIONED HOW MUCH I LIKE THAT TIONNE IS A MAJOR PLAYER IN THESE BOOKS? Because I do. Traveling with Luke and rescuing kids, singing songs, being kind... #legend. I don’t think we ever see Kam, though, so I don’t know what he’s up to. It’s literally just Luke and Tionne, plus a bunch of NPCs here.

I don’t get how Anakin can be so good with droids yet not understand Artoo’s Binary, but okay. I love how Artoo just follows him around for... reasons, or he would except Anakin cheats by using the stairs. Ignore Artoo at your peril, kid.

More world-building:

Anakin had reached the Grand Audience Chamber. It was the highest room in the Temple, and unlike the other rooms, it had not been rebuilt for the academy. Gently Anakin pushed open the large doors. He walked into the center of the Grand Audience Chamber. The walls were a deep tan stone, worn smooth over the years. Blueleaf shrubs, the most common shrub on the moon, poked through several cracks in the stones. They attached themselves to the stone with suckers. The shrubs were electric blue, and as Anakin leaned close he could smell a spicy perfume.

(As an aside, I don’t understand why Legends makes the Grand Audience Chamber at the top of the Temple - the room we see in ANH seems too large to fit at the top of a pyramid the size the ones in Chichen Itza. Does anybody have any drawings of the interior of the Temple of Kukulcan or any other Meso-American step-pyramids to confirm or deny this? Also, I don’t get why an audience chamber would be at the top of so many stairs - it seems like you’d want that to be closer to the ground for easier access for the plebes, and keep the upper levels as private space for the aristocracy. But I digress...)

Anakin meets Tahiri, who is from Tatooine and raised by Sand People, because we need to have more movie references and there are only like 5 acceptable planets for Star Wars writers, because movies, so that’s fine. Her defining character traits are impulsiveness, constant chatter, and a distaste for shoes.In light of the prequels, her comments on sand have aged well:

“Where I’m from it’s hot and there’s sand everywhere - gritty sand that sticks between your toes. So, aren’t you going to say something?”

Tionne shows up and sends them to bed. Anakin’s not a morning person. #Relatable. At breakfast, his reaction to Tahiri’s account of her dream in which he saves her on a river is priceless:

Anakin was silent. So this was what his brother Jacen was always talking about. I guess girls do get crushes on boys and say things that make no sense, he thought.

LOLOLOLOL. Also, Anakin says Jacen and Jaina are his best friends and Tahiri laughs and says No, I’m your best friend now like I said yesterday, and MY HEART. These kids. I love them.

Anyway, Luke lectures them on the Force, and it’s mostly Yoda’s sayings all mushed together, and apparently “Believe and you succeed” really is a part of it, so okay then. We swing suddenly from Anakin’s POV to Luke’s and it’s kinda jarring, especially since Luke is only interested in recapping his own personal history and has nothing new to say.

Anakin starts dreaming the same dream as Tahiri and hearing voices, so they sneak out to investigate even though Luke has explicitly warned them not to. Anakin’s so worried about being kicked out, it’s charming...

LOL, Tionne expects them to lift 2-kilo weights with their minds on the first day. What. They do it through the Power of Friendship, because of course they do, in between plotting how to get out of the academy and investigate the dream.

Fortunately, Artoo is there to help! Good old Artoo! He’s got a lot of practice in being sneaky. I have no idea why the raft is conveniently there waiting for them in the jungle, but okay. Tahiri falls in during the storm, but fortunately Anakin is able to use his lesson in TK to save her. They lift Artoo out the same way once they get to their destination, but Tahiri drops him in the water when her control slips. Good thing he’s waterproof!

Anakin name drops Exar Kun and a bunch of Yavin IV backstory. I like that Anakin is Indiana Jonesing his way across Yavin while simultaneously wondering if his uncle’s going to kick him out. Also Artoo brought the only light. They find a mysterious golden globe and a cute animal named Ikrit and cover themselves in glitter before heading back.

Tahiri’s already willing to sacrifice herself for Anakin in case Luke wants to kick them out and they’ve literally just met and this makes me wish I didn’t know what I know about NJO, because now everything hurts.

Luke’s waiting them for them, all stern in his Jedi blacks and.... Artoo steps up and lies for the kids, and he decides he’s not going to end their careers as a Jedi students just yet. LOL.

Meanwhile, Ikrit is curled up in Anakin’s bed - turns out he’s a secret Jedi Master and the voice in Anakin’s head. Turns out the globe is full of trapped children because Exar Kun is a jerk and they can’t tell any adults or it will be destroyed. Ikrit’s been sleeping for hundreds of years waiting for the right kids and he chose them. Of course, Anakin and Tahiri vow to do what they can to help, even though it’s going to be difficult, because of Luke’s lecture earlier, which Anakin can recite from memory (he really does have an eidetic memory, doesn’t he?). The end.

I have so many questions. Why did Artoo help them out? (I assume Ikrit, but I don’t remember if that’s ever explicitly spelled out. And can Jedi talk to droids with the Force? How did Ikrit meet Artoo? It just raises more questions.) Was it Ikrit or Artoo who set up the raft? How did they do that and where did they get it? Does Ikrit even have thumbs? Why couldn’t Anakin and Tahiri just walk to the Palace of Woolamanders or whatever? Did Ikrit really hibernate for four centuries straight or did he wake up every couple of years to stretch his legs and whatnot? Why did he do that rather than, you know, get help or something? Why has Tahiri been dreaming of the river her whole life, only for the dream to suddenly jump to Anakin? Is Ikrit sending her the dreams or is the Force?

I like how there’s such an emphasis on training, when they’ve been on-planet for less than a week (three days??) because that’s how fast the plot moves when you’re eleven (and Tahiri is NINE!). These kids! Did I mention I love them?

Ikrit is technically a Kushiban and not a Hoojib as I’d originally thought. I’m not sure exactly what the difference is, since they’re both sentient telepathic lagomorphs, but that’s fine, I guess. I am fond of the Hoojibs, but I didn’t know about them until @joysweeper posted some Star Wars Marvel comics from the ‘70s with Plif, so they’re not exactly common knowledge. That said, I really like the illustration of Ikrit on the cover, and I’m also absurdly fond of him in spite of the fact that canon is so flimsy here.

#star wars legends #junior jedi knights #the golden globe #book reviews #eu fuckery #jedi academy shenanigans

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miumiu-chan · 4 years ago

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Miyase Go STORY 1 Chapter 11-4

Subbed video: STORY-1 11-4

——————Go-chan, who I met with for the first time in about a year, even though he was always smiling, greeted me with a face that always seemed to be crying.

-Miyase / Other House-

[MIYASE]: “Here you are, it is Japanese tea. I don’t know if it will suit your taste.”

[RULONG]: “Thanks. It smells good.”

I immediately reached out for the served tea.

This was to emphasize “trust”.

Don’t hesitate to put it in your mouth, and swallow.

[RULONG]: “Yup, it’s tasty ♪”

[RULONG]: “By the way, is this Go-Chan’s other house? It has a beautiful garden.”

To my words that came from small talk as a courtesy, Go-chan suddenly deepened his smile.

[MIYASE]: “Thank you. Rulong......seems to be doing well.”

[RULONG]: “Was it winter when we last met before?”

If I remembered right, it was a night when the snow that started from noon turned into rain.

[RULONG]: “You gave me a celebration for my promotion at Licorice.”

[MIYASE]: “Something like that did happen.”

[RULONG]: “Go-chan’s rare Japanese sake was delicious~♪”

[MIYASE]: “Because Rulong is generous when scoring Japanese things.”

[RULONG]: “That’s because I love Japan. Do you remember? Go-chan.”

[RULONG]: “A long time ago, when I said I wanted to become more Japanese, you gave me the paperback book of “Kokin Wakashu”*.” (T/N: a book of Japanese poetry)

[RULONG]: “The tattered one with Kujo Soma’s name written in hiragana on the back.”

[MIYASE]: “......Sorry. I don’t remember.”

[RULONG]: “Seriously? Huh, even though it’s still my favorite book.”

[MIYASE]: “......More than that, you’ve been promoted, so you shouldn’t be able to come to Japan easily.”

Unexpectedly, “the reason for your visit after such a long time, let’s hurry and talk about it,” was practically said.

[RULONG]: (You’re impatient, Go-chan.)

I wanted to enjoy a peaceful meet-up with my old friend for a little longer.

[RULONG]: “This time, I came for work.”

[RULONG]: “————In the flower drug case.”

[MIYASE]: “......Drugs, is it?”

[RULONG]: (You polished a splendid look of amazement.)

[RULONG]: (But today, I have to talk a little seriously, Go-chan.)

[RULONG]: “Are you planning on going the ignorant route agaain?”

[MIYASE]: “Whatever do you mean?”

[RULONG]: “Kagetsugumi asked for Go-chan’s cooperation, didn’t they?”

Even if I gave the name of the yakuza, Go-chan’s smile did not collapse.

As impressive as always.

But then I too would say something mean.

[RULONG]: “You know, Go-chan, what kind of tempting whispers did Kagetsu say that made you decide to cooperate?”

[RULONG]: “Am I correct?”

[MIYASE]: “......”

[RULONG]: “Kagetsu, who has been trying to investigate the past relationship between Go-chan and the Kujo Family, the head seemed to have come out with an acquaintance and said,”

[RULONG]: “‘Let's crush the Kujo Family with the crime of manufacturing, selling, and profiting of flower drugs!’”

[MIYASE]: “......Hmm, I don’t know what you’re speaking of.”

My family that was the cool mafia from China, Licorice manufactured the flower drugs.

We entrusted the distribution in Japan to Kagetsugumi, which we had an old relationship with.

But Kagetsu was a bad child, and turned on Licorice, taking advantage of the profits.

Furthermore, the guilty betrayal was put on the Kujo Family to cover it up, and they would probably sell Licorice out to the Japanese police.

They were inconvenient existences for Kagetsu, and were probably thinking of rounding up everything in one go.

[RULONG]: “Go-chan, do you understand?”

[RULONG]: “For bad guys like Kagetsu who stole profits from Licorice, do you mean to cooperate with them?”

[RULONG]: “If you’re trying to crush the Kujo Family, won’t it be fine to use other righteous means or sources?”

[MIYASE]: “Oh my, you don’t understand what you’re talking about at all.”

The farce was over.

After the frustrating exchange, I finally got into the main subject.

[RULONG]: “So, what I want to say is——“

[RULONG]: “Since Go-chan and I have been a family since long ago, I came to see you because I wanted to avoid hostility.”

[RULONG]: “And so, this is a gift as a proof of deep affection.”

[MIYASE]: “......An SD card?”

[RULONG]: “Licorice’s research ability is much better than Kagetsu’s, Go-chan.”

[RULONG]: “I'm sorry, but I thoroughly researched about Go-chan and the Kujo Family.”

[RULONG]: “I've put together the data, so take a look.”

[MIYASE]: “......I see.”

[MIYASE]: “Is Rulong speaking of family to meddle in my personal revenge?”

[RULONG]: (Oops, this glaring face is nostalgic.)

[RULONG]: “It’s because we’re family, Go-chan. I came to teach you the truth.”

[RULONG]: “Go-chan’s perception is that “the Kujo Family cornered your mother and killed her,” isn’t it?”

[RULONG]: “——But, what if it wasn’t like that?”

[MIYASE]: “What do you mean?”

[RULONG]: (That face is rare.)

I booted up the laptop that I brought.

[RULONG]: “Although it‘s still impossible with Go-chan’s power alone, if you teamed up with the yakuza, you might be able to crush the Kujo Family at once.”

[RULONG]: “That chance has rolled in.”

[RULONG]: “And you grabbed it. I would’ve done the same.”

[MIYASE]: “............”

[RULONG]: “Go-chan, who was robbed of your mother, having to partner up with people like Kagetsu to take revenge and crush the Kujo Family, I understand it veery well.”

[RULONG]: “Family is more important than anything.”

[RULONG]: “But————“

[RULONG]: “Kujo Soma is the same as Go-chan. Kujo Soichiro robbed him of his mother.”

[MIYASE]: “............Ha?”

The data in the inserted SD card was displayed on the screen and shown to Go-chan.

[RULONG]: “Kujo Soma’s mother that Go-chan cannot help but be hateful towards was also forced to commit suicide by Kujo Soichiro.”

[MIYASE]: “———“

[RULONG]: “Read carefully, these investigation results. I have all the evidence.”

[RULONG]: “Kujo Soma's mother, the house of Kujo Yukari, was also a wealthy family and influential. So far, that fact has been a strong secret.”

[RULONG]: “Go-chan probably wouldn’t have known even if you investigated it yourself.”

[MIYASE]: “Nh......”

Go-chan’s gaze on the computer screen——was stuck in the “past truth”.

[RULONG]: “Kujo Yukari harassed the mistress, Go-chan’s mother, and the mistress’ child, Go-chan, in various ways.”

[RULONG]: “Her husband was obsessed with someone other than herself, so I guess she had gone completely crazy.”

[RULONG]: “It seems that she was doing some pretty malicious things by spending her family's financial resources.”

[RULONG]: “Kujo Soichiro, who noticed that, gave Kujo Yukari a humiliation that a decent person would hesitate to even say——“

[RULONG]: “In other words, he gave it to his own wife, and drove her to suicide.”

[MIYASE]: “What......are you saying? What is this data……-“

[RULONG]: “The truth.”

[MIYASE]: “The truth......”

[MIYASE’S MOTHER]: 『Shut up! It’s as if......-』

[MIYASE’S MOTHER]: 『It’s as if you and I killed her!』

[MIYASE]: “I......, it’s because of my mother and I, that Kujo-san’s mother died......?”

[KUJO]: “Not being able to see your mother......it’s painful, isn’t it?”

[KUJO]: “For me, to be honest, I don’t understand.”

[MIYASE]: “Ah......sorry.”

[MIYASE]: “Soma-san’s mother, if I’m not mistaken, was ill......”

[KUJO]: “Did you hear that from my father?”

[MIYASE]: “Yes......”

[KUJO]: “......That's right. My mother was......ill.”

[KUJO]: “Without really having the feeling of parent and child, she was gone.”

[MIYASE]: “Then......-, at that time, the words Kujo-san said to my mother......-“

[KUJO]: “Ryoko-san, I do not hold a grudge against you.”

[KUJO]: “You are not guilty from the beginning.”

[MIYASE]: “Saying that he did not hold a grudge......-“

[MIYASE]: “Not giving me an “explanation”————“

[MIYASE]: “............Like mother, in order to not carry the guilt......”

[RULONG]: “Both Go-chan and Kujo Soma have been deprived of your mothers.”

[MIYASE]: “It’s a lie......”

[RULONG]: “It’s not a lie.”

Go-chan held his mouth down, and ran toward the bathroom.

In the space where I was alone, I drank the Japanese tea with a warm and bitter taste.

——A few years ago.

Shortly after I met Go-chan and we became friends.

I had studied his life with the intention of testing my skills and also out of curiosity.

At that time, I got the information that “Go-chan held a grudge against the Kujo Family who forced his mother to commit suicide.”

[RULONG]: (But this time, I learned my own “truth” at the same time as Go-chan's true past.)

That was why I left all my other jobs and came to Japan.

[RULONG]: (I didn't want to become enemies with Go-chan.)

[RULONG]: (Since the day we met, we have been family.)

And in order for Kagetsugumi to repair the cracked relationship, it was necessary to drive in the “truth” that became a lock into Go-chan’s heart.

[RULONG]: “......I’m sorry, Go-chan.”

[MIYASE]: “What are you apologizing for?”

Coming back with a stagger, Go-chan had a complexion like a ghost.

That was only natural.

He now knew that the “past” that was his foundation was only a small part of the truth.

[MIYASE]: “......Please let me check all the data once again.”

[RULONG]: “Look at it as much as you want.”

For about an hour after that, Go-chan took the “Miyase Go・Kujo Soma and their surroundings investigation results” by Licorice

And read it over and over again.

—————And then.

The moment when the shrub-like redbud that bloomed in the garden showed a terrible bend in the strong wind.

[MIYASE]: “......Kujo Soichiro.”

What dropped from his mumbling was the name of the man who he should’ve really had a grudge against and wanted to crush——

[MIYASE]: “Everything that his ego left behind, was my target of revenge.”

#stand my heroes #sutamai #miyase go #translations

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forgiven-whimsy · 5 years ago

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Under Thanalan’s Sun

My first late entry for the 30 day WOL challenge, I probably won’t be doing one a day, but will hit the list at my own pace. This is the Laugh prompt. This is also my first piece of fic in over 10 months. Forgive the rust.

Read on A03: Here

“This isn’t going to work.” Thancred turned at the now familiar voice, newly minted Scion of the Seventh Dawn, Shiloh, emerged from their room wearing the same weathered linens he was wearing. The linens were the cheap and simple clothing of Thanalan’s poor. And to Thancreds eye she looked the part of destitute peddler in need of succor, or the perfect patsy for the false priests praying on the good folk of Camp Drybone.

“What makes you say that?” Thancred gave her a once over, once again seeing nothing wrong with his chosen disguise.

“We stick out, even with these clothes, if our kidnappers have been targeting Drybone, then they’ll have marked us,” She pointed at her horns, and flicked her forked tail for emphasis. “While I truly appreciate the non-reaction you and the other scions gave me as an Au Ra in Eorzea, you lot are the exception, not the rule. They’ll have noticed an Auri adventurer, and suddenly there’s a destitute Auri beggar? It stinks of a trap.”

She made a good point.

“And you! Handsome white haired adventurer with a neck tattoo, you’re not trying very hard.” She cocked her hips at him, and Thancred touched his tattoo, he was supposed to be mentoring her, and if he was being honest, hoping to show off a bit. He tried not to let his pride swell when she called him handsome, that wasn’t the point of her comment. Shiloh had an eye for details, and these were details he should have caught.

“Ah, yes, you’re right, of course.” He cleared his throat. He spied the linen sac their disguise had come in, “head coverings are fairly common in Thanalan, so, if we,” he tore the bag in two, before wrapping one half over Shiloh’s head, arranging the material over her horns, made it look like a poor man’s turban. “There, that’s better, we can use the dust to dirty you up a bit, and at a distance, the natural assumption would be that you are Miqo’te or Hyur. Keep your back to the rocks and shrubs, our query won’t get a close enough look until it’s too late.”

This wasn’t the first rookie mistake he’d made on this mission, her first. His eyes more often following her instead of staying alert to his surroundings, his mind drifting to thoughts of her instead of the task at hand. She was driving him to distraction. Thancred had an appreciation for her sharp instincts, that she was clever, kind, and lovely besides wasn’t helping. He had a weakness for beautiful women, it wasn’t exactly a secret, and under normal circumstances, he would lay on the charm until they had a tumble in his bed, and he got her out of his system. Problem was that she was a peer and colleague, and the other scions were trusting him to keep her safe and show her the ropes, not to mention he would need to work with her again, and a physical entanglement would make things awkward, never mind the thrashing Yda would give him for bedding her friend. Wasn’t it just like him to always want what he couldn’t have.

To add insult to injury, all Thancred had managed to do was embarrass himself. Some rogue, at this point she’d managed to save his backside not once, but twice. The first time it was a well timed barrier that deflected an Amalj'aa arrow, the second they’d wandered too close to a rutting aldgoat bull and Shiloh had managed to keep the beast at bay with some well timed and well aimed magic stones. He needed to get a hold of himself. Yda’s words rang in his ears, be good, and keep your hands to yourself. He hadn’t needed to see her eyes to feel the fire behind her mask when she’d pulled him aside. He’d shrugged her off, told her he was a professional above all, and that she didn’t need to worry about her friend. And yet, he caught himself staring again, she was adjusting the half sac on her head and appeared pleased with his solution, he let some of the tension he was holding in his shoulders out. He could do this, easy.

“Now to do something about you,” Shiloh pulled the other half of the sac off the ground where it had fallen, and tore it into strips. She took a step towards him, close enough he could smell her, the dirty rags she was wearing doing a poor job of masking her natural scent of soft florals. He inhaled sharply when she lifted her hands towards him, she stopped short of touching, giving him a crooked grin, pale golden eyes dancing under her long lashes, as if she was privy to a private joke, and he wasn’t. She cleared her throat, but Thancred was glued in place, “you’re choker, could you take it off? I’ll wrap your neck up with these, make it look like a wound, and hide that tattoo.” She nodded towards him, and after another short second Thancred got his arms moving, removing his trademark white choker.

Thancred wasn’t sure what it was about Shiloh that turned him back into an untried boy, what it was about her that made him so bloody nervous, she was hardly the first sweet natured woman to have crossed his path. He’d watched her in Ul'dah, defending an innocent woman, and while impressed he’d managed to maintain his regular decorum around her when he invited her to the Waking Sands. While making introductions at the Sands, he’d even been able to flirt a little. He’d been excited to work with her, eager to see what it was Yda and Paplymo had seen in her, and he had. He’d seen a woman who took her time, used her head, considered her options. He’d seen a woman with a soft spot for children, and infinite compassion and empathy for others; she was too trusting, but Thancred imagined that would correct itself with more experience in the field. But as their week in Drybone dragged on, he met a woman with a sardonic edge to her wit, hospital humour, she’d called it. She was quick to remind him she was a healer first, and she was, whenever they met the Amalj'aa in skirmishes, she wove her healing magic seamlessly, he could feel the constant glow of her magic while he fought, could see the elusive shimmer of her shields deflecting arrows, all while manipulating earth, and air, and water to devastating effect. More than that, Thancred met a woman with a natural infectious joy, whose smile couldn’t help but be answered in kind. There was a warmth he couldn’t describe, he only knew he felt lighter, happier, when he was with her.

He jumped when he felt her cold fingers at his throat, “sorry, bad circulation.” She gave him a sheepish shrug, “actually could you sit down, might be less awkward?” She cleared her throat, and took a step back, her cheeks going pink.

“Right.” she finished dressing his fake wound with practiced ease, when she was done his Archon tattoo was effectively hidden. Shiloh touched his hair, biting her lip, “I suppose if we dirty you up enough we could make it look something other than white.”

Thancred wiped his sweating palms on his borrowed linen trousers, she was standing between his knees. Slowly he lifted his hands to her hips, she startled at his touch, “shall we go get dirty then, my dear?” He gently pushed her away so that he could stand, only now they stood chest to chest, his hands still on her hips. The fetching blush on her cheeks had deepend, touching her neck, and disappearing under her borrowed tunic. Shiloh stepped away, quickly, her voice an octave higher when she agreed. That he was affecting her in such a way didn’t help his imagination. He shook his head and gave her what he hoped was a charming smile, and headed towards the door, she followed after him. Keep your hands to yourself , Thancred never was very good at following directions, he flexed his fingers.

Shiloh felt like a teenager with a crush, and this was hardly the time for it. Thancred wasn’t the first handsome and charming man she’d ever met, nor would he be the last. Yda’s warning rang in her head every time he gave her that crooked smile of his, he’s a cad and a womanizer, he’ll flirt the pants right off of you if you give him the chance, be smart. The problem was the longer she spent with him, the less she wanted to be smart.

Despite the heat, and the blushing, and the flirting their plan worked, and they managed to uncover the plot behind the disappearances, the same idiot who had tried to lie to her in Uldah was, behind it, selling the poor of Camp Drybone to the Amalj'aa, disgusting and shameful. She watched Thancred head back to town, his arm slung around their new catspaw, he would coordinate their next move with the Immortal Flames, as he had the connections.

Shiloh pulled the half sack off her head and shook the sand and dirt from her blonde hair, she could feel the sand between her scales, could hear the faint crackle of it in her inner ear whenever she turned her head, the grit had even worked its way into her mouth, the rest sticking to her skin. Shiloh hated the desert. The sun was high in the sky, waves of heat distorting the scenery, and she understood why it was that Ul'dahn society made a habit of mid afternoon naps. Better to sleep through the worst of the heat then toil in it. Shiloh had a mind to do just that, but rather than drudge back to camp Drybone, she eyed the watering hole but a few fulms away. The animals in the surrounding area were either huddled in sparse shade or nestled in their burroughs, and the people from the town would be taking their afternoon nap, she pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. Shiloh pulled off the rest of her disguise, and climbed into the water in her small clothes, a light camisole and her underwear. The water was shallow and warm, like a tepid bath, but it rinsed the sand from her skin and scales. She climbed onto a large flat rock, content to let the light breeze dry her, the sun and cicadas lulled her to sleep.

Shiloh dozed, hovering at the edge of sleep and let her mind wander back to Thancred and the feel of his hands on her hips, the mischief in his eyes. She knew he was flirting with her, she liked the attention, he had a way of making her feel seen, heard, important. Despite Yda’s warning, she found that she sensed no malice coming from Thancred. Every time he called her darling or dear she felt her face heat up, but the smile he gave her when he noticed he affected her was addicting. They were dancing around each, circling closer with every pass, testing to see how far they could push each other, what kinds of small touches were permissible, innuendo a constant game. It was reckless, but it was fun, and it had been long years since she’d allowed herself to have fun, not since before the Calamity. She wondered idly what it would be like to kiss or be kissed by a self avowed scoundrel. She’d known her share growing up in Limsa Lominsa, and she’d very smartly rebuffed their advances, despite her curiosity, because it was safe thing to do, because she knew better. Be smart, Shiloh was finding that smart was boring, and that perhaps she’d been boring for long enough.

Her musings were interrupted when she heard steps through the dry grass. She mumbled an aero spell under her breath; the steps sounded more man than beast. When the walking stopped she rolled onto her haunches in one fluid movement and cast her spell...at nothing.

“Wha..”

“You had me worried, you know.” Thancreds voice was behind her, how, she twisted to see him standing on the bank of the water hand on hips, and she felt his eyes sweep over her, open appreciation on his face. Shit.

A stammered explanation, an attempt to cover herself with her hands, and her embarrassment at being caught in such a state all resulted in a rather inelegant scream which saw her lose her footing and tumble into the water. She watched his face change in slow motion, from smug grin to surprise, and then her head was beneath the shallow water, and he was splashing in after her. He pulled her up to sitting and she choked and sputtered all over him while he rubbed her back and pulled a length of waterlogged grass from her hair. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.” She gasped between coughing fits.

Thancreds face was barely concealed mirth behind a thin mask of concern, Shiloh could see his lips and cheeks twitching from the strain. “Go on then, get it out of your system.” She splashed his already soaked tunic while he erupted in uproarious laughter. She blamed her body wide blush on the sun.

“Gods, I’m sorry.” Thancred managed between fits of laughing.

“We both know you’re not.” Shiloh gave him a playful shove.

“You’re right,” He laughed leaning back into the water no longer caring that his own clothes were soaked.

Shiloh took the opportunity to stand, doing anything to regain some semblance of dignity, in her hurry to grab her tunic from the shore she tripped on Thancreds outstretched legs and she fell, and screamed, again. He had the wherewithal to catch her, and they both tumbled back into the water. He pulled them both back up, she was flush with his chest while he propped himself up on an elbow. Shiloh buried her face in his shoulder succumbing to her own laughter, while he continued to shake with his own.

“Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce you to the Scion’s newest recruit. A hero for the ages, Shiloh Mitka,” Thancred said.

Shiloh lifted her head, having lost her battle with dignity for the day, embracing the moment, “behold Hydalyn's chosen,” She gave Thancred a playful grin, before they both dissolved back into giggles.

Eventually they both stopped laughing, Shiloh felt Thancreds hand replace the thin strap of her camisole back onto her shoulder. His hand trailed down her spine tracing the scales at the base, making her shiver against him. Shiloh exhaled in a huff, hyper aware of his heat, the breath against her skin and horn. His face was close, so close she could see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes; saw how they darted to her lips when she wet them. Thancred brushed the water from her cheeks with his thumb.

A herd of Aldgoats brayed close enough to make them both jump and separate, “we should head back, you can fill me in on the particulars of the plan.” Shiloh stood again, this time Thancred offered his hand and they climbed out together. She dressed quickly, heart still beating out of her chest. Her lips tingled with lost opportunity. There was a time and place, and the day before a major operation was not it, when they were done with their work, maybe...Shiloh bit her lower lip.

They headed back towards Camp Drybone, Thancred giving her the particulars of the plan, it would be an ambush, she with one group of Flames, he with the other. With any luck they would stop the summoning before it began.

Back in their room Shiloh hurried behind the screen and changed out of her still wet underthings, Thancred did the same on the other side. Fully dressed and dry Shiloh asked what questions she could think of for the following day. Her nerves were catching up with her, in her short time as an adventurer, she’d faced monsters and beastmen, and won, emphatically, but the stakes felt higher this time, she'd been raised on stories of Primals, she knew how devastating they could be. While she could use and was adept at her offensive spells, they weren't her specialty, the idea of fighting, alone no less, was a frightening prospect, the echo would protect her from the Primal's influence, but fire was still fire. Thancred must have sensed her nervousness, and stepped closer, putting his hands on her shoulders, “I’ll be right behind you, I won’t let anything bad happen to you, I promise.”

“Right,” Shiloh licked her lips, and shook her head, “right, we can do this.”

“You are a hero for the ages after all.” Thancred grinned at her, face soft and hazel eyes warm.

“You think so?” Shiloh stepped into his space , and he tensed, his eyes tracking her, lifting an eyebrow at her boldness.

“You.” Thancred closed the gap between them, threading fingers into her hair, the other hand circling her waist, “are special.”He lowered his head to hers stopping short of her lips, playfully rubbing his nose with hers, “this is a terrible idea,” he husked, tilting Shiloh’s head up towards his.

“The worst.” Shiloh got up on her tiptoes, winding her arms up from his chest to around his neck, and kissed him, gentle and curious, she sighed into him, and he took full advantage, expertly pulling her against him, and deepening the kiss, tasting her lips, her tongue, her breath, and she returned his ardor tracing his tattoo with curious fingers, something she’d wanted to do since meeting him, he moaned into their kiss so she did it again. They kissed each other breathless, and senseless. Breaking and panting for breath. Thancred pressed his forehead to hers.

“As much as I would love to ravish you here, now, I’m expected in Ul'dah.” Thancred pet the scales on her cheeks with his thumbs, taking a small step back. “And you need your rest. If it comes to it, and Ifrit is summoned, it will fall to you, and the echo, to overcome him.”

Shiloh bit her kiss swollen lips, nodding.

“If you were amenable, after all is said and done...and if you haven't come to your senses, there’s a waterfall not far from here that I think you might enjoy.” He kissed her, capturing her breath, growling low in his throat, chasing away her uncertainty and doubt, “and it's far more private then the watering hole.”

“I’d like that.” she whispered a reply, dazed and giddy.

He nodded at her and gave her a dashing smile, “right then, I’ll see you in the morning at the appointed hour. Rest well.”

Shiloh gave him a smile and a wave, and immediately fell onto her bed after the door closed. Gods she’d never been kissed like that, touched like that, she covered her face with a pillow. Her whole body tingled, and she kicked her legs a bit. She knew deep down that Thancred was right and what they were doing was a terrible idea. She just couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.

#seaswolchallenge #ffxiv #Thancred x wol #ffxiv arr #Shiloh Mitka #My Oc #Exposed writes Fan fic #does the I'm not nervous dance

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gaasaku-fanfests · 5 years ago

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Dog Day Afternoon

Title: Dog Day Afternoon Author: anoceaninthesun Rating: K+ Words: 3,020 Summary: Reluctant dog-walker Gaara doesn’t think much of it when he sees a slightly familiar girl while on his way to the park. But when she ends up in peril not long after, he finds himself unable to avoid coming to her aid, ending up with an unexpected reward for his efforts. Various Tags/Warnings: Gaara POV, Kankuro’s dog, BAMF Sakura, meet cute, minor threat of violence, some swearing

A/N: I do apologize for the late submission and the fact that most of the GaaSaku interaction is concentrated toward the end but I do hope readers like it

Trope: Hurt/Comfort or Fluff

For the record, it wasn’t even his dog. Gaara had never wanted a dog. His tidy apartment flat might be what some called utilitarian—‘depressing is more like it’ his siblings teased—but he had his plants. His house shrubs and his beloved cacti. Naruto popped by semi-regularly. His siblings certainly never ran out of excuses to turn up and meddle. What more did he really need?

Certainly not a dog. No… a big, slobbery, clingy mutt was Kankuro’s idea to hopefully land a date. Something about a recent dry spell. Plus, his brother kept telling him, they were man’s best friend. Grunting, the redhead wound the leash tighter around his knuckles, jerking back as the excitable rescue tried to tow him down the street after the newest smell to catch his interest. Kage wasn’t well trained yet, his brother procrastinating for some unfathomable reason on putting him through obedience class, and as a result wherever the dog’s interest drew him was where he went.

Slamming his free hand into the pocket of his jeans, Gaara barely managed to navigate Kage around two chatting young women walking by them on the sidewalk. One of them had a scone and the treat instantly had the dog’s tongue hanging out of his mouth, bushy tail wagging.

They didn’t stop, but one turned and made eye contact with him, giggling and then saying something to her friend. There was the attention from the opposite sex Kankuro was searching for that he personally couldn’t care less about. His studies kept him plenty occupied. And despite what his family and possibly his few close friends thought, he was not lonely, and he was not looking to get matched up anytime soon.

Even Naruto had said something about a close childhood friend he wanted Gaara to meet, though one pointed glare was enough to stop that attempt in its early stages. While he loved the blonde dearly, as closely as another brother, he wasn’t known for being the sharpest at times. If notoriously oblivious Naruto could get a clue, why couldn’t Temari and Kankuro?

Gaara huffed to himself, figuring there was no point asking himself the same question he hadn’t been able to answer for some time. And if Kankuro loved the company of dogs and the attention they brought him so much, why couldn’t he walk his mutt himself? Why’d he foist last minute pet sitting off on his kid brother, knowing full well he had an upcoming term final to study for?

Well…maybe Kankuro wasn’t that clued into what he was doing in school. He wasn’t known for volunteering much about his field of study. It wasn’t that there was anything secretive about majoring in political science, it was just… Did a twenty-year old man really need to tell his family in depth how his day at school went?

The end of the lead suddenly went slack, and Gaara’s teal eyes peered down to see they had reached a crosswalk at a busy intersection on a main street and Kage was sitting obediently as cars rolled by. Huh. At least the damn dog had a sense of self-preservation.

Others joined them in waiting for the flashing light to indicate that it was safe to walk, a teenager talking on the phone, a few men in gray suits holding briefcases appearing to have just left a meeting, a mother juggling a cup of coffee and a fussy toddler, and some school children who looked entirely too interested in trying to pet Kage.

Gaara kept his eyes forward, ignoring the children especially. They couldn’t ask to pet him if he didn’t acknowledge them. The dog would bask in the attention, undoubtedly, but he’d really prefer to just be on his way. Finish the walk and return home to check on his plants, maybe try a recipe he’d stumbled across online. Yes. He was aware his routine wasn’t peak excitement for a twenty-something. No. He was not open to suggestions on changing it.

The light continued to stay flash with the warning not to cross, taunting him, as the children inched closer and closer in lieu of successfully making eye contact with him. Still, Gaara’s eyes were firmly forward. Subtly people-watching the crowd of strangers on the other side of the street.

That was why she was hard to miss. Dressed plainly in comfortable sweats and a green sweater that hung off one shoulder, a young woman walked with her head down, scrolling through something on her phone. That in itself was nothing remarkable.

Plenty of young people his age walked with earbuds in, eyes on a phone or tablet, lost in their own world. She somehow stood out in the crowd, though. It was probably the pink hair, shiny and shoulder-length in a soft pastel hue with a red headband in it. Eye-catching hair drew attention, so he could hardly be blamed for glancing twice.

But as he watched her maneuver back into the crowd waiting to cross as she turned the street corner, her focus on her phone yet still managing to avoid bumping anyone, Gaara had the vaguest notion he had seen her somewhere before.

The signal finally changed, the vehicles forced to stop as pedestrians crossed, and the girl disappeared, banishing any mild interest he had conjured. Gaara was back to keeping Kage in line, deciding it hardly mattered if and where he’d seen her before. He probably wouldn’t be seeing her again.

The redhead crossed the street with his brother’s dog, realizing too late their walk had somehow ended up taking them a different way than they normally came, closer to a park about a block away. When had he ever been so absent-minded? It was unlike him. Stopping in front of a posh little café, the kind where a finger sandwich probably costed more than a whole meal, Gaara tried to get his bearings back. He wasn’t lost exactly, but he hadn’t planned on the detour.

Not that his canine companion seemed to mind, his sooty black nose whipping back and forth as he followed the erratic flying of a dragonfly. If anything he still had energy to spare. That made the young man cringe, thinking of how eager Kage had been to sniff and try to get into his precious plants the evening before. There was no way he would allow the dog back into the apartment until he was sufficiently tired. So maybe some time at the park was in order. If he recalled, there was a place designated for dogs to roam anyway.

Kage trotted forward with confidence like he already knew their destination, his russet fur nearly red in the sunlight. They walked the perimeter of the fence that separated the shady path of the sidewalk from the lush grass of the park.

Gaara discreetly looked around until he saw people leading their own eager dogs into a side fence in the opposite direction of where the dog-less humans went. When he got through the gate and unhooked Kage with a stern expression, he barely got a parting lick before the fluffy mixed-breed was frolicking off. Gaara sat on a bench, arms folded, and watched. No leash to tether him, and the dog was having the time of his life, leaping through the grass, hiking his leg on any tree that caught his attention, and barking merrily. A golden retriever wearing a bright bandana bumped noses with his brother’s dog, and it wasn’t long before the two were rocketing off, tussling and sprinting the length of the yard. Suddenly, he was very glad that Kankuro was nowhere around. He didn’t need to be told that even a dog had better social skills than he did. Of course, dogs were more indiscriminate with their friendships.

One eye on Kage and his new friend and one eye on the people passing on the outside of the dog yard, Gaara let his mind drift about. The afternoon in the park was relaxed, sunlight dappling through the branches of large old oaks, a trickling fountain able to be heard even over the sounds of dogs at play, and people having light conversation as they lapped the fence.

Beyond the park, the city waited, unresting with its window displays and business luncheons and endless foot and bicycle and car traffic. Here, here was nice. In hindsight it wasn’t such a terrible thing to take a detour every now and then.

Idly, he thought of the girl he had seen, her face making a sudden reappearance in his mind unbidden. Instead of banishing her, curiosity had him remembering the furrowed knot of her brows, the color of her hair and finally the sense that he had seen her prior to today.

‘Naruto knows many more people than I do. Is she a friend of his, perhaps?’ Glancing at his watch, he mentally jotted himself a note to ask the next time Naruto came over for a movie. As his eyes flitted up from the watch’s face his heart skipped dully, the girl he’d just been envisioning right there in front of him.

Gaara blinked. But no, she didn’t disappear. She was closer than ever in fact, passing feet away, only separated by the neat little picket fence. She still had her earbuds in, and her lips were moving as she mouthed quietly, nodding along alternatingly.

Her jade eyes took in the towering tree branches above with a faint smile. While they didn’t make eye contact, Gaara noticed when her head turned that her eyes were jade, the smattering of freckles he could see on her bare shoulder. She was…she was…

‘Cute,’ His thoughts supplied unceremoniously. That he thought so should probably concern him, because even in passing he wasn’t one to notice the attractiveness of those around him. His brother and sister had plenty of crushes for all three of them.

But the girl was cute, nothing more or less to him. It didn’t have to mean anything, and watching her make pass after pass around the fence, mumbling to herself the entire time, became rhythmic and soothing. His shoulders didn’t hunch so tightly, his eyes at half-mast. Sleeping, even drifting into a total state of relaxation in public was impossible for him, but he felt at ease.

Time went on, people filtered in and out, Kage’s playmate eventually getting called back to her owners. Tongue hanging out and wearing a face of satisfaction that creased his dark eyes, the dog padded over, barking up at him and spinning tight circles. “Ready at last, eh?” He clipped the lead and stood.

They walked toward the exit, sun casting the sky in hues of blue, orange and gold. Kage stopped, and Gaara foolishly thought for a minute even the rambunctious pup was taken in by the peace of he moment. Then his floppy ears perked and the fur along his back stood on end. He sniffed the air and tugged at the leash in earnest, each step assertive.

Normally he would reprimand, refuse to let the dog lead the way so easily. Something had Kage on edge, though, the normally friendly hound transformed into a dog on a mission. If there was one thing he did know about dogs, it was that their instincts would always be sharper than a human’s. Though at the moment, he was starting to feel like something was amiss too.

Bounding around the corner and through an area of trees slightly more off the main trail, Kage came up short at a small slope. The pink-haired woman was at the bottom, hemmed in between three men whose body language suggested they weren’t simply asking for directions. The dog growled low when one of them flicked out a butterfly knife. “Sorry. You’re cute, but you still gotta give us your wallet.” he was saying.

She didn’t respond, instead putting up her fists and squaring her shoulders after slipping her phone into a pocket. Gaara narrowed his eyes. She was insane if she thought she could just swing her fists and get out unscathed. For once, he didn’t try to fight Kage straining at the lead, taking deliberate steps toward them, not sure what he was planning to do except give her backup.

His foot crunched over a twig, and it drew their attention, four heads flying in his direction. But she recovered the quickest, slamming her shoe down on the instep of the man who had her at knifepoint and then kneeing him hard in the stomach. He dropped his weapon and she threw a solid right hook that hit him in the eye. If Gaara had eyebrows, he was sure they would be in his hairline.

“Who else?” she huffed, wiping her knuckles on the back of her pants like she’d touched something foul.

“You little bi—” Gaara let the leash go, and Kage barreled in, a blur of fur and a snarl of sharp teeth. And then he was attacking another assailant. The one who’d had the knife tried to get up, but the pink-haired woman didn’t let him, kicking him in the chest to keep him down. Something rattled that probably shouldn’t have as he flopped back with a groan.

By that time Gaara found himself in the fray, immediately seizing the opportunity to deal with the last lowlife, dodging his swings and getting in punishing blows to his face and torso. He’d always been strong for his size, strong enough to be feared when he was younger and in a darker place, but now that worked to his advantage, all the vicious skills he’d honed coming back in a flash.

Mugging anyone was probably the last thing on anyone’s mind as the trio tried to run, the woman calmly pulling out her phone again and dialing the police to make a report. He vaguely heard her giving them a detailed description and telling them she was safe and would wait for them.

Gaara closed his eyes and let the adrenaline ease back down. Kage, having gotten his chance to play hero, saddled over to the stranger and nudged her free hands for his reward pets. Typical. She smiled, happy to oblige.

“That was dangerous,” he said.

She looked up, a bit sheepish now. “I have a bad habit of zoning out when I listen to my lecture recordings. It’s just…the first time that’s happened.”

His eyes flickered down to her phone, then back up to her face. “Lectures?”

A blink, then a slow nod. “I’m a pre-med student. Um, my name’s Sakura.”

Gaara was…perplexed. This was not how he envisioned introductions going. Not that he envisioned one at all! “Gaara.” On an afterthought, he said, “The dog’s Kage.”

Some of the tension evaporated, Sakura smiling wider as she rubbed at the back of her neck and looked down at the dog now calmly at her feet. “Thank you. Both of you really helped me a l-lot…” Her hands were shaking. She was shaking. So she was rattled after all.

“It isn’t safe, even if the authorities are on their way. We’ll stay.”

Sakura’s eyes widened, and she looked ready to protest. He glared, cutting her off. “Alright…” she sighed, appearing defeated. “It’s getting dark anyway, and I’d be lying if I said it’d make me feel better if I didn’t have to wait alone.”

Satisfied, the redhead gave a quiet grunt, crossing his arms. “You’re familiar.”

“Now that you mention it…you are to—oh! Do you go to school around here?” She came closer, nodding to herself as she spoke. “You! My friend accidentally smacked you with a door a week ago and knocked you down.”

The painful memory came rushing back, and he could feel heat rising to his cheeks. If the higher being he didn’t put much faith in had any mercy, it would be too dark for her to notice. That wasn’t one of his finer moments, but now he definitely remembered the way Sakura had scolded the dark-haired man who’d hit him with the door before rushing over to check on him. Not wanting to prolong the inevitable, he’d gotten to his feet as quickly as possible, shrugging her off and leaving without as much as a word of gratitude. Thinking back, that was harsh. She wasn’t the one who’d hit him.

“Yes,” he cleared his throat. “I apologize for the impression I gave back then, but I appreciate your attempt to help.”

Sakura didn’t laugh. “Sure,” She wrapped arms around herself in spite of the sweater. “I think at this point I owe you though.” A street light nearby chose that time to flicker on, and Gaara watched a blush creep up her face. He suddenly didn’t feel so bad about his own earlier. “You know, if we’re going to be seeing more of each other anyway…maybe we could meet up at the café on campus sometime? B-Buying you some lunch is the least I can do. Oh, I could buy your meals for a week.”

It was hard not to overthink it. Most of his life he hadn’t been the one people invited to hang out, and sometimes he still wondered over how he’d managed to attract a brighter personality like Naruto’s. But in the moment, his brother’s voice, of all people’s was yelling frantically in his head for him to just accept.

“That sounds nice, thank you.” But a week of campus café food was unnecessary. And expensive for a college student. “I’m use to cooking my own meals. If you insist on talking over food, I wouldn’t mind making something for the both of us.”

Was that too much? Did it sound too forward? Like he had ulterior motives? Like he was taking advantage?

Sirens wailed as a police car drew closer, and Kage perked up. Gaara hardly noticed, too focused on how Sakura’s face beamed back at him.

Kankuro would never get over this. He’d insist he was responsible, since it all happened because Gaara had been walking his dog. And well, it could be that for once in his life, his brother would be right.

#GaaSaku #gaasaku-fanfests #GaaSaku Fic & Art Challenge #fanfic #anoceaninthesun

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