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juniper-sunny · 5 months ago

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The Art in the Heart* - Chapter 9

It's Silco's turn to meet people from your past. His visit to your first home is disturbed by long-buried memories resurfacing—along with a confession of dark secrets...

Happy Ending AU | Silco x Reader | Young!Silco | F!Reader | No [Y/N] | Slow Burn | Romance | Eventual Smut | Fluff | Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Fix-It || SFW | WC: 4.8k

beta reader: the magnificent @silcoitus !!

ao3 || Masterlist || Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

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Just as Silco is about to make a wrong turn towards the elevators, you gently take him by the elbow. You’re tempted to keep holding on, but you quickly drop your hand when he looks at you quizzically.

“Are we not heading for the underground?” he asks.

You shake your head. “Janna’s Embrace moved to Lower Piltover a few years ago, for the fresh air and sunshine. And vendors will actually deliver to us now without charging huge hazard fees. We’re saving a lot of money that way.”

You don’t go into detail about how Lower Piltover is a much safer place to raise children. All Zaunites are “gutter rats” in the eyes of Enforcers, but at least the orphans raised at the Embrace’s new location don’t have to live like Sumpsnipes anymore, scraping the ground for crumbs and living in filth and puddles.

Just as you finish speaking, your destination comes into view. You can’t help but feel a swell of pride as you cross a cobblestone courtyard towards a wide, three-story brick building with arched windows and a sloped roof. The exterior is slightly weathered from age, but the leafy bushes out front are neatly trimmed. Cheerful chalk sketches cover both the ground and the walls of the building itself, mostly of smiling stick figure children holding hands. One particularly colorful drawing depicts a child riding a giant Poro over a rainbow.

The bronze plaque above the front door bearing the orphanage’s name is highly polished, engraved with a portrait of the goddess herself. Her long hair billows in an arc behind her, a kind and calm smile on her face as she cradles her arms lovingly to her bosom.

An old, tall, muscular canine Vastayan with short dark fur and pointy ears is watering the bushes. When she senses your arrival, her ear twitches underneath a straw gardening hat, ratty and holey with old age. She turns to you as you reach the doorstep.

“Hi, Kharon,” you call out to her with a smile.

She doesn’t say anything, but blinks slowly at you. When she sees Silco, she tilts her head inquisitively at him.

“Kharon, this is Silco. Silco, this is Kharon,” you introduce your friends to each other.

“Hello,” Silco says politely. He extends his free hand out.

Kharon doesn’t take his hand, but instead puts down the watering can and wipes her clawed paws on her patchwork overalls. She lowers her gray and grizzled snout to his forehead. He stands perfectly still as she sniffs him, her huffing exhales ruffling his hair. Then, she steps back to scan him from top to bottom.

Silco straightens under her scrutiny, determined to make a good impression. You almost giggle when Kharon finally lets out a low growl of approval. She steps away to pull open the front doors wide open enough for the two of you to enter with the wagon.

“Thanks,” you tell the Vastayan as you pass her. “Are Teema and Cuny around?”

“Kitchen,” she says in a low grunt.

You wave goodbye to her as Silco crosses the threshold first. He pulls the wagon carefully into a wide hallway, observing the interior carefully. The doors click shut, and the noise echoes quietly, reverberating against the high ceiling. The dark wooden floor is spotless but worn from countless footsteps treading over it. Framed photographs of happy families and grinning kids adorn the walls, some candid and others posed.

Silco leans in to study one particular portrait that catches his eye. A young girl with missing teeth and a choppy bob is laughing at the camera, caught in a group hug with a boy and another girl her age. Her peers are just as joyful, the boy’s eyes squeezed shut as he wheezes with silent laughter. The second girl grins while looking at her friends.

“Is that you?” Silco asks, pointing at the first girl, whose hair and eye color matches yours. His grip on the wagon’s handle loosens, forgotten in his fascination with the photo. An amused smile creeps onto his face, almost as wide as the child’s.

“Yeah,” you say shortly. The bittersweet twinge of nostalgia in your heart is overcome by a dark disdain.

You have some fond memories of growing up alongside these friends and others not pictured, but they’re all gone now.

And you still wonder if that was all your fault.

Before Silco can ask you more about the picture, you take the handle from him and cross the hallway. You walk briskly through an arched entryway into a crowded cafeteria. The wagon’s weight slows you down enough that Silco can still keep up with you. You make a note to give Silco a proper tour later, but you’ve wasted too much time already.

And you want to outrun the painful memories stirred up by that photograph.

You turn left towards the far wall and pass a serving station, Silco following close behind. As you round the corner and enter the kitchen, you call out a warning. It’s already bustling, filled with kitchen staff who say hello back to you in passing. You gesture for Silco to stay close to the wall as someone walks past him carrying a bin overflowing with dirty dishes. Boots squeak on the thick, non-slip mats covering every inch of the ground. The stainless steel appliances gleam brightly as if they had been scrubbed recently. Countless racks and shelves mounted on the walls hold neatly organized dishware and utensils.

Two older women stand in the center of the room, chopping fruits at a kitchen island. Their white aprons are already stained from a long shift. One of them looks up when you enter and exclaims your name in delight.

“Oh, honey! It’s been too long!” she beams as she hurries over to you. She’s shorter than you, her light brown wavy hair framing the crow’s feet etched into her face. It rubs softly against your chin as she stands on tiptoe to hug you tight. You can’t help but smile back when she kisses your cheek.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Teema. She was here yesterday,” says the other woman in a serious tone, but her smile at you is just as warm. She’s taller, with straight, blonde hair tucked primly into a hairnet. Her steel-gray eyes observe Silco coolly, gazing curiously at him.

“Hi, Teema. Hi, Cuny,” you squeak out. Teema is still squeezing you too tight for you to breathe. When she finally lets you go, you rummage in the wagon and pull out two small paper bags. “I got some sweetbread for you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, how did you know I was craving some?” Teema laughs heartily and takes a bag from you right away. She rips it open and immediately chomps into the snack, humming in satisfaction.

“Thank you,” Cuny says gratefully. “Could you put mine in the refrigerator please?”

“I’ll take them,” Teema says gleefully.

“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” the other woman says, exasperated at her partner’s impulsiveness.

You hand Teema the second bag and she scurries off. Fast as lightning, she tosses the bags in a nearby fridge and then walks a full circle around Silco. “And who’s this tall glass of sweetmilk?”

“Teema…” the other woman says sternly.

“This is my friend, Silco,” you say a little too loudly, embarrassed by Teema’s conduct.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Silco. Our girl has never brought a man here before!” Teema says enthusiastically.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Silco says politely while you wince inwardly at her pushiness. “I like your tattoo.”

He gestures at Teema’s shoulder, adorned with a one-eyed Poro smiling dopily. The portrait is bordered by sunflowers with vibrant, golden-orange petals. The lines are clean and thin, expertly inked by a steady hand. The velvet smoothness of the petals contrasts sharply with the spiky fur of the animal, the difference in textures rendered so masterfully that you could almost expect to feel them under your fingertips.

“Thank you! The girl who did this used to live here,” Teema says proudly. “Her name is Nyle, do you know her? She works in the Sumps—”

“Why don’t the two of you have lunch,” Cuny says firmly, walking forward to lay a hand on Teema’s shoulder. “We’ll take care of the food, thank you.”

“What? We could use the help here—” Teema starts, but you turn away and stalk off, not bothering to say goodbye.

If your heart was merely uncomfortable before, the name that Teema mentioned unleashes a wave of grief and anger that crashes through your chest. It has your heart pounding so loudly in your ears that you almost don’t hear Silco running to catch up with you.

He calls out your name, worried. You ignore him and keep walking until he grabs your elbow.

“You should eat if you’re hungry,” you try to say in a casual voice, but your voice hitches. It’s hard to talk around the stone lodged in your throat. “The food here is great.”

“I’m not hungry,” he says, looking at you with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you say, irritated. “I just needed some air.” You jerk your elbow out of his grip and kneel down to fuss with your shoelaces, avoiding his eyes. When you stand up, you brush some imaginary dirt off your pants, still unwilling to meet his worried gaze.

He says your name again, and you reluctantly look up at him.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” he says gently. You can’t help but laugh at that, letting out a shaky huff as you glance away.

“I’m sorry about Teema,” you say, still attempting at nonchalance. “She can be… a lot.”

You’re tempted to say more, but deep down, you know you shouldn’t lash out at her. This isn’t the first time that Teema has frustrated you: you’ve asked her multiple times to take down that photograph, and to never mention that name in front of you ever again. But she means well, and you can’t find it in yourself to stay angry at her for long.

Besides, she’s never hurt you as badly as that person did.

“What else is troubling you?” Silco asks quietly.

Your first instinct is to lie and say “nothing.” But as unpleasant as it is, it’s relevant to another conversation you still need to have with Silco.

You’ve known Teema long enough to anticipate how her forgetfulness could trigger you. Maybe deep down, you wanted her to talk about that person. You were already struggling with how to pull Silco aside and drop a figurative bomb on him.

Teema gave you the opportunity, and it would be a waste if you didn’t take advantage of it.

“I have to tell you something…” You take a deep breath, trying to fortify yourself. “Do you mind if we go somewhere quiet?”

“Not at all,” he answers immediately. “Please, lead the way.”

Even with the sense of anticipation curling sourly in your stomach, you can’t help but smile at him. He has no idea what you’re about to tell him, but his willingness to hear you out cheers you up anyways.

You lead him out of the cafeteria and down the hall towards a staircase. When a gaggle of chattering kids and their harried caretaker pass by, you exchange hellos while Silco nods politely at them. As you climb up the stairs, a sense of impending doom rises in your chest, your heart beating faster.

The second floor consists of dormitories, private bedrooms, restrooms, and communal showers. At this time of day when most people are eating lunch, you hope to find an empty room. You get lucky with the first door you knock on; nobody answers, so you open the door and stand aside, letting Silco enter first.

The smaller sleeping quarters are used mostly by down-on-their-luck nursing mothers or families who have nowhere else to go, so you and the Embrace’s staff put in special effort to make these rooms as cozy as possible. Colorful, fluffy rugs cover the floor, soft enough to tempt you into taking off your boots and socks. Thick, wide blankets are draped on each of the four beds, large enough to almost touch the ground. You’re tempted to grab one of the fat and squashy pillows for comfort, but you decide to hold off for now.

You sit on the floor at the foot of a bed. Instead of sitting down next to you, Silco kneels and peeks underneath the furniture.

“Hello, little girl,” he says kindly.

Curious, you crouch next to him to see who he’s talking to. Under the bed is a young child barely out of toddlerhood, holding onto a rabbit plushie as big as herself. Her pale blue eyes stare out at you from the shadows. The irregular layers of her blue hair are rumpled from pressing against the underside of the bed.

“Hi, sweetie,” you say warmly to her.

Her eyes dart between you and Silco, then she clumsily crawls towards you. You hold out your arms as she climbs into your lap. When you hug her, she drops the plushie to hug you back.

The girl turns to you with wide, serious eyes. Solemnly, she says, “I’m a ‘norphan.”

“Pardon?” Silco asks amicably.

“Sweetie…” you say gently. You hold her unblinking gaze and tuck an unruly lock of hair behind her ears. “What did we say about telling lies?”

“’Only lie to strangers and Enforcers,’” the little girl recites.

“Very good,” you praise her cheerfully. She giggles when you boop her on the nose. “Why aren’t you eating lunch?”

“Waiting,” the girl says, burying her face in your shoulder. She turns her head slightly to stare blankly at Silco.

“Waiting for what?”

“Powder?” a childish voice at the doorway calls out.

The three of you turn to see another little girl in the doorway, slightly older with messily chopped and short pink hair.

You reach out to her as she walks past Silco to throw her arms around your neck.

“Hi, Vi,” you say brightly, hugging both kids tightly. “Where were you?”

“I was in the bathroom,” says the pink-haired girl. “Can we sleep here tonight?”

“Of course, honey. You, Powder, and your parents can all share a room,” you say tenderly.

“Can I have my own room? Dad snores,” Vi complains.

“If you go to bed first, you’ll fall asleep sooner. That way you won’t hear him snoring,” you whisper conspiratorially to Vi, as if sharing a trade secret. “If he’s still too loud, just put a pillow over your head and hum to yourself. You won’t be able to hear him then.”

“Really?” the child asks wonderingly.

You nod. “You girls go eat now. Make sure you finish everything on your plates.”

Vi smiles at you. “Thanks, auntie.”

You smooch both Vi and Powder on their foreheads. They giggle as they clasp hands, hurrying away. Their little stomping footsteps echo in the hallway.

Leaving you and Silco alone.

You get up and sit on the bed, crumpling the blanket in an anxious fist. He takes a seat next to you, his shoulder brushing up against yours.

“So those children are ‘Powder’ and ‘Violet’?” he asks.

“Yeah, their parents drop them off here sometimes when they’re working,” you try to say casually, still avoiding looking at him.

“I’m friends with Felicia and Connol, but I haven’t yet had the opportunity to meet their children,” Silco muses out loud.

“You’re one of the Children of Zaun; shouldn’t you know every child in Zaun?” you joke weakly.

“Becoming acquainted with every Sumpsnipe in the underground would be a more difficult endeavor than attaining independence for the Undercity,” he chuckles. “But if you’re their ‘auntie’, perhaps I could become their ‘uncle’.”

“They’d like that,” you say quietly.

You’re not sure what to say next. It’s so tempting to lean your head on Silco’s shoulder. The easy, encouraging smile he gives you is too inviting, so you squeeze your eyes shut and turn away from him.

“It’s just us now,” he says softly, unbothered by your caginess. “Whatever it is you need to say, I’m listening. Take as long as you need.”

You’ve been dreading this moment—lifting the veil from Silco’s eyes—all day now. Even so, you’re almost surprised at how scared you are.

You take a long, shaky breath, counting down from ten. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice refuses to come out. Silco waits patiently as you swallow and clear your throat.

“...Do you remember how I started working for Topsiders?” you finally ask in a dry voice. You had told him that morning weeks ago, the day after burglarizing Councilor Salo. It feels like it happened in another life; so much has changed since becoming better friends with Silco.

“You were selling paintings at a Progress Day fair when you were a teenager,” he recalls. “Just as you were about to be arrested for vending without a permit, a Topside merchant came to your rescue. He was so impressed by your skill, he declared himself your patron on the spot. I would have done the same.”

“Thanks,” you smile weakly at him. Despite yourself, you feel a beaming pride at the memory. “He wanted portraits for him and his entire family. He had a wife and four kids, so it was a jackpot. It was a pain in the ass getting them to pose, though.”

It’s one thing to think back on the memories, but it’s another to speak of them out loud. The lump in your throat hardens, threatening to choke you. You try to swallow it but fail.

“At that time I was still living here. Kharon, Teema, and Cuny were happy for me but the other kids… weren’t,” you say slowly. “They kind of gave me a hard time.”

“What happened?” Silco asks. His voice falls flat, but a tiny notch furrows between his eyebrows.

“Just some bullying,” you shrug. “Kids will be kids, you know?”

You don’t go into detail about your brushes getting stolen, your paints getting flushed down the toilet, or your sketchbooks getting torn to pieces. Some of your already completed paintings had even been burned, forcing you to request a postponement in deadlines.

Silco doesn’t press you for the specifics, but his face turns stony, his stoic demeanor betrayed only by a muscle twitching in his jaw. It touches you that he feels angry on your behalf; for a revolutionary, you thought he’d be made of tougher stuff.

“My friends really pulled through for me,” you say. “They’d beat up my bullies and protect my stuff. I’d try to share my money with them, but they always said no… until they didn’t.”

You frown at your own naivety. The blanket falls out of your grasp as you raise your fist to your chest, fingernails digging into your palm.

“Becoming a gang was Nyle’s idea. I’d get commissions from rich Topsiders and scope out their mansions. Gita and Kai would burglarize them at night, and then Nyle would fence what they stole,” you say, closing your eyes to better remember the details. “Did you know that it’s safer to only steal one earring? That way, the owner will just think they lost it. They’re less likely to think it was taken.”

“The item is less valuable on its own. But you mitigate the risk of being caught,” Silco muses. “Very clever.”

“I learned that from Nyle. It worked for a while, and we made great money… but...” You swallow again, preparing yourself to talk about the worst part of the story. Still, you can’t help but feel proud of your crimes. Stealing from the rich to feed your friends was the noblest endeavor you could aspire to at that age. Seeing Silco’s smirk of approval spurs you on to keep going.

“We stole a Valdiani from an Academy professor, and he freaked out. It was a gift from his dead daughter… and he fired his maid, because he thought she stole it.”

The rock in your throat is a boulder now, the agony choking every muscle fiber in your neck. You press on through gritted teeth. “I wanted to find her and apologize. She was just doing her job. But I was scared she’d turn me in… so I didn’t say anything.

“Then I found out she was from the Undercity, so I asked Nyle if she could join our gang. She said no, it wasn’t our problem. I tried changing her mind, but she wouldn’t.

“...Then we started fighting about the money.”

Money… the root of all evil. The solution to and source of so many problems in the Undercity. You almost wish you could bribe Silco into leaving so you don’t have to finish your story.

“Gita and Kai wanted more money because they were doing all the heavy lifting. They said it should come from my share since I was just ‘sitting on my ass and painting’… but I didn’t want to. If they screwed up, I’d get in trouble, too. I’m the one who set up the job in the first place, you know? And I’m visiting the Pilties regularly, so of course they’d suspect me…” you babble on, trying to defend yourself.

As important as it is to rationalize your past actions to Silco, you know deep down that you could have done better. You were already being paid generously for your commissions; you didn’t need the extra money from your criminal activities. But it was the principle that mattered more to you at the time. Even if your friends’ contributions differed from your own, it didn’t mean that yours mattered less than theirs.

“I should have helped her,” you say in a wobbly voice. You close your eyes as tears begin to well up, your nose stinging and tingling with rising pressure. Your chest heaves as you finally succumb to the visceral throes of regret. “And my friends needed the money more than I did… now they’re all gone…”

Silco immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. You press your face into his chest, shaking and sobbing. Your tears stain his shirt. He squeezes you tight, his breath light and warm against your ear as he lowers his head to speak.

“It’s okay,” he says, so gently. “You and I both know that Topside is to blame. They have us fighting over their table scraps while they feast aboveground. The children of Zaun deserve more than their runoff. It’s not your fault for wanting a fair share.”

“I’m—” you hiccup, trying to stop gasping so you can speak properly. “I’m not as good of a person as you think I am—"

He hushes you and chuckles. The sound is low and rumbles in his chest, vibrating against your cheek. “Candidly, I thought you would confess to something much worse. We’ve all done terrible things in the name of survival. Your ‘sins’ are no worse than anyone else’s in the underground. They’re certainly better than mine.

“As for your friends, you did the best you could for them,” he continues. “Their well-being was not your responsibility. That would have been too much for anyone to handle on their own.”

He pulls away from you to tilt your face upwards. Your vision is blurry with tears, but you stare into the bright turquoise smears of his eyes as he returns your gaze.

“Believe me when I say, you did nothing wrong,” he concludes.

The effect his words have on you is soothing. Your sins have weighed you down for so long, dragging you into deep waters, drowning in guilt. Holding onto your secrets for so long with chafed, bleeding fingers; never telling anyone else, not even when Kharon found you wandering the Sumps aimlessly after you were kicked out of the apartment you shared with your friends. Never confessing to what happened even during Teema’s persistent questioning or Cuny’s curious stares. Too afraid to face other people’s judgment of your mistakes.

But if your secrets were an anchor holding you down, the chain is severed by Silco’s reassurance. You’re still underwater, but a heavy weight peels away from your shoulders. The change in pressure disorients you, and you feel dizzy as you take another shuddering breath.

You stammer out, “I c-can’t join the Children—I don’t want to be used again—”

“I understand,” Silco says reassuringly.

“I’m—I’m so useless—I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” he says firmly. “I will say it as many times as you need to hear it… you’re perfect.”

Your next breath fills your lungs with a renewed vitality. It’s so relieving to hear Silco’s acceptance of you. You’ve hidden your sins in the dark for so long, but he doesn’t flinch away when you shine a light on them.

He actually leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. He’s solid and warm, a beacon you swim towards in the abating storm of your distress.

His thumb slowly wipes your tears away, a light touch against your eyelids.

You press your nose against his.

His hand moves to hold the back of your head. His fingers thread through your hair.

Your hand slides from your lap to rest on his knee.

He bumps his foot against yours. His lips part ever so slightly.

Your breaths mingle.

You lean in—

“Auntie?” Vi’s voice rings out from the doorway, shattering the moment.

You jerk backwards away from Silco and jump to your feet. In your haste to run over to Vi, you almost trip over yourself.

“Hi, sweetie!” you say too loudly, crouching down in front of her.

If the little girl notices your blushing and tearstained face, she doesn’t mention it. She cranes her head to look behind you, squinting. “Is my rabbit here?”

You look over your shoulder to see Silco walking over to the foot of the bed. He leans down to grab the forgotten rabbit plushie. His movements are graceful as he gingerly picks up the toy and carefully brushes some dust off it. You can’t help but admire how tall and lean he is, like a crane wading through a pond. Your blush deepens, heat creeping from your cheeks down your neck.

You busy yourself with tidying Vi’s hair as he saunters over. He crouches down next to you and hands the toy to the little girl.

“Here you go,” he says kindly.

Vi takes the plushie, staring at him without saying anything.

“What do we say now, Vi?” you remind her gently.

“Thanks, mister,” the girl says after a long pause. Her wide eyes still watch Silco with curiosity.

“Very good,” you praise her. “Have you finished eating yet?”

Vi finally looks at you and shakes her head.

“Tell Cuny I said it’s okay for you to have seconds. You need to eat a lot so you grow big and strong!” You pat the child on the head, hoping your voice sounds more enthusiastic than panicky. Silco’s close proximity to you has your heart hammering, still recovering from the whirlwind of emotions.

Vi giggles when you smooch her on the head. She dashes off, clutching the plushie tight. You stand up to watch her disappear down the hallway, the toy’s ears flapping all over.

You’re tempted to run after her and leave Silco behind. Despite his affirmations, you’re now embarrassed by your earlier show of vulnerability. In retrospect, it seems silly that you were afraid of losing him. He’s been nothing but a good friend to you, after all.

He stands across from you now in the doorway, staring at you. You sniffle and wipe the last of the tears from your eyes before turning to him.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concerned. His brows are still pinched in worry, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening into trenches.

“I will be,” you say. And it doesn’t feel like a lie. You smile at him without forcing it. “Thank you.”

He gives you a puzzled look. “What on earth for?”

You let out an amused exhale through your nose. On impulse, you step forward to hug him.

He immediately reciprocates, his arms wrapping around your torso as you nuzzle into his chest. His heart beats a comforting rhythm against your ear as he presses his cheek to your hair.

You don’t know how long you stand there in silence, caught in each other’s orbit, unable and unwilling to break free to rejoin the greater galaxy.

Silco’s stomach rumbles loudly. He lets go of you and steps back, frowning in mortification.

“Let’s get lunch,” you say with a chuckle. “My treat.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we’re making a new batch of ice cream for dessert today, it should be ready by now. Do you like strawberry?”

“I’ve never had ice cream before. I look forward to it.” He smiles at you, his teeth glinting in the sunlight shining through the window.

You marvel at his beautiful smile. You hope he’ll let you paint it one day.

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If you liked this fic, please reblog and/or leave a comment! My inbox is also open to requests for both sketches and drabbles, or just to chat. Feel free to say hi :3c

Chapter 10

#Arcane #Arcane fanfic #Silco fanfic #Silco #Silco Arcane #Arcane Silco #Silco x Reader #my writing #The Art in the Heart #TAITH

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deny-the-issue · 3 months ago

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Autumnal Reaping

Chapter One: At First Glance

Masterlist

Next chapter ->

Overall Summary: While researching a topic you hold close to heart, you meet Emmrich Volkarin in a chance encounter. He introduces both romance and academic opportunities into your stagnant life as an unknown, sinister shadow lurks from beyond the Fade.

This story is set after the events of the game where Rook does not romance Emmrich. There will be end-game spoilers, although they are not discussed in detail.

Thank you to my wonderful friend for beta reading, @juniper-sunny <3 I'm sitting on the finished second chapter already, and I cannot wait to post! I'll probably set it free in a day or two, but the next updates will be every 1-2 weeks after that.

Like this -> post to join the tag list for this story!

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[MDNI] [Emmrich x you] [Emmrich x Reader] [no y/n] [fluff] [angst] [fat!reader] [reader has boobs and vulva] [eventual smut] [eventual romance] [non-binary pronouns] [angst with a happy ending]

The Mourn Watch is a respectable order within Nevarra, and it is an honor to be a watcher. Yet, to be a part of a respected order and to be respected are two concepts leagues apart, and the latter is far out of your reach. There are worse lives you could be living, certainly, but if you could roll the dice and be someone else–you’d do it in a heartbeat.

A better life is but a blink away, always residing in the back of your mind. While you toil away at your day job, a daring adventure plays out in a daydream, saving you from the monotony of daily life.

Wake, clean, study, repeat.

To clean up after the real masterminds of this place is a privilege to those unable to contribute in other meaningful ways–as Matron Thistle is fond of saying. You could recite the jab in your sleep, and the ensuing spite fuels your day to day grind. It works, you suppose, but this amount of ill will can’t be good for your fragile mental health.

Studying is the only part of your day that is entirely yours. A refuge and a hobby, you research the nature of the Fade, venturing into metaphysics more often than not. There are many theories surrounding the Fade’s properties, but so much is unknown.

It fascinates you to ponder the different possibilities of what's out there. Looking not only for answers to humanity’s greatest questions, but of other worlds and dimensions.

Maladaptive daydreaming with your nose in a book is how you spend most evenings, nestled away deep in the catacombs. People never tread these quiet, hallowed halls, and for that, you are thankful. Most people your age have moved far beyond your current status, and your fellow janitors are a rotating door of freshmen having drawn the short stick for work duty.

Friends are impossible to come by for you, these days. Not that it’s ever been easy for you. Solitude is a solace, allowing you to be yourself unapologetically.

This cozy, abandoned corner you’ve come to call yours has a stone table in the middle of the small room. Its walls are lined with urns containing remains of the unidentified dead, instilling the stagnant air with a chilling sadness.

The stone walls and floors match that of the rest of the Necropolis, gray bathed in green veilfire. Sand collects in little piles and thin lines along the edges of the room, ever present in these parts. Sweeping wouldn’t do much good–you know from experience. The sand falls from the Fade, and there is nothing anyone can do about it.

There is comfort among the forgotten–a kind of kinship, even. The wisps in this area have taken a liking to you as well, their shimmering cyan forms with tendrils stemming from a center point gives them the appearance of an etheric dandelion.

Two of them float and bob around weightlessly to the same beat as your hips, swaying to an unheard rhythm. Too antsy to sit, you stand as you read with your back to the open hallway. Humming and singing errant lyrics absentmindedly, you tear through a text on an obscure theory of the Fade recorded hundreds of years ago.

Despite life’s general malaise, it was a good day. Matron Thistle ate something that disagreed with her and you had an amazing day without her nagging your every move. You’re so relaxed from the quiet day of work, you could kiss those skeletons on cooking duty.

A man clears his throat, announcing his presence behind you. You freeze as if you’ve been caught, and turn around slowly.

“Ah, hello! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The man clasps his hands together. “It’s rare to find another person among these forsaken souls.”

How long has he been standing there?!

With a perfectly cordial tone, his carefully modulated voice complements his fine clothes and jewelry, giving him a distinguished air enhanced by his crows feet and gray hair. Going from his grave-gold, he is a prominent member of the Mourn Watch, and you adjust your behavior accordingly.

“Sorry, I can go.” Your book closes with a heavy thud and you hastily grab your bag off the floor.

“No, please. These halls could do with a bit of warmth.” He smiles, pointing to the wisps with his gloved hand. “They’re quite fond of you.”

“Oh-uh, yeah. They keep me company while I read.” Your fingers trace the intricate grooves of the book cover nervously.

“Personal or academic study? If I may ask.” Interested or nosy, you have the handsome man’s full attention.

The wisps investigate him and you relax a little. They are excellent judges of character, or at least you choose to believe so. The man greets the wisps with the same respectful manner he used with you, and the gesture softens your guard.

“Personal.” The man’s silence pushes you to say more. “It’s about the possible multi-dimensional properties of the Fade.”

“How interesting! What drew you to that line of inquiry?”

“Uh-just, you know…” you clear your throat and try to string some coherent words together. “I like the thought of other worlds out there. From subtle differences to global changes–the possibilities are endless.”

“Ah, yes! Fascinating to think about, isn’t it? I spent some time in my youth researching multi-world theory. An under-appreciated topic, unfortunately. I can count on one hand the number of sources,” he sighs wistfully. “I apologize for putting you on the spot. All topics of the Fade interest me, deeply. Learning about its mysteries is one of life’s greatest pleasures.”

With an agenda all their own, the wisps leave the two strangers alone, their ethereal laughter fading quickly. And with them, the little peace of mind you obtained vanishes.

“What-uh, brings you down here?” you ask, shuffling nervously.

“Ah, well. There is a rumor of a haunting in this area. Have you seen any wandering, restless spirits?”

After a moment of thought, you shrug and shake your head. “Not that I know of.”

“Ah, good. Are you down here often?”

“Mhm. Almost every night.” Your answer seems to satisfy his curiosity.

Anxiety worms through your stomach because you revealed more than you’re comfortable. His kindness is too disarming–or is it because you haven’t stopped blushing this whole time? Are you imagining the connection you feel?

Probably.

“My rounds should be made with ease, then. Thank you for the riveting conversation. I apologize for interrupting your private study, and I hope you have a pleasant evening.” With a little bow, he makes his exit gracefully.

You manage an awkward, “It’s ok! You too.” Waving nervously after him.

Why the fuck did you wave. That’s not something you do normally. Place a hot old man in front of you and your brain leaps into the void.

Looking back at the closed book that held your attention in a vice only moments ago, obscenities leak from your mouth. You didn’t mark your page, and you lack the motivation to find it again. Sighing heavily, you gather your things and head back to your living quarters for the night.

The jingle of your keys as you unlock the door is outmatched by the growl of your stomach.

Wishing you could ignore it but knowing you can’t, you drop your things off in your room and follow your nose to the kitchens. The cafeteria is closed this time of night but the kitchens are always open to those who need a snack.

The sleepless skeleton cooks greet you with excited hisses, bringing a smile to your exhausted face.

The warm yellow light of the fire is a welcome change from the green-tinted surroundings. Dried garlic and herbs hang from the walls, pots and pans litter the counter tops, and a wooden table rests off to the side with three mismatched chairs.

You’ve developed a rapport with the regular cooks, teaching them how to add more flavor in little ways. A skeleton with a bow tie brings you a bowl of soup before you can even ask.

“Oh, thank you, Francis. You’re too kind.” You notice the droplets of orange oil floating at the top of your corn chowder. “You even added chili crisp! You’re the best.”

Happily slurping away with not an ounce of grace, you barely hear the footsteps approaching.

You place the bowl on the table with a heavy thunk, rake a napkin across your mouth, and turn to face the visitor.

“Hello again!” he greets.

It’s the same man from before, but this time he has a skeleton at his side. They are wearing an acolyte’s robe and goggles, which tickles something at the back of your mind.

You’ve gone twenty years without seeing him in the Necropolis and now here he is, twice in one day. What are the odds?

“Oh, hey! Find any hauntings?” you ask.

“No restless spirits tonight. Though, I doubt there ever was one.”

“Oh?”

“Several people have reported ghostly singing echoing through those halls,” he pauses, choosing his next words carefully.

The pieces begin to fall into place through the silence, and embarrassment tints your every move. Eyes cast down, you fidget with your hands, waiting for judgement.

“You have a lovely voice,” he finishes with a kind smile.

“What?—oh, uh. Thank you,” you smile out of reflex.

His words are slow to process. Lovely? You count your blessings that you were singing something pretty and not screeching like a banshee. It’s surprising this hasn’t happened sooner, now that you think about it.

“Manfred!” The skeleton hisses, pointing a boney finger at its chest.

“You’re right, Manfred! Where are my manners? I never properly introduced ourselves. I am professor Emmrich Volkarin, and this is my pupil, Manfred.” Emmrich steps forward, offering his ungloved hand.

Your name sounds dingy in comparison with no title or accomplishments to go along with it. But it’s hard to dwell on such things when his hand is warm in yours, skin weathered and soft.

Emmrich Volkarin. Emmrich Volkarin…

“Wait—not the Professor Emmrich Volkarin that took a sabbatical to save the world?!”

He laughs, lighthearted and breathy. “The very same.”

You relinquish his hand, cringing. Handshakes aren’t supposed to last that long, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Quite the opposite, actually.

“What were you singing before? If I may ask,” he inquires.

Caught off-guard once again, you look at him blankly. You should have known he would have questions.

“Just something that came to mind,” you offer, shrugging.

Please be enough. Don’t make me explain.

Emmrich hums thoughtfully. You’ve disappointed enough people to know the look of disbelief when you see it, but he doesn’t push the topic. Something else catches his attention off to your side.

“Is the soup too spicy for your liking?” he asks.

“Oh no–It’s delicious! I’ve added chili crisp to my food so much the cooks have caught on–they’re so thoughtful,” you blurt out, all too excited to talk about your newfound way of adding flavor to the normally-dull daily soup.

“Ah–so you’re the mysterious mentor! The Watcher overseeing the kitchens was quite perplexed at the altered menu,” Emmrich reveals.

“...altered menu? Wait–they made it this way for everyone?!”

Emmrich nods, “I appreciate a little spice now and then, but a Matron admitted herself to the infirmary early this morning.”

“Not Matron Thistle?!”

“You know her?”

Flabbergasted, you look at Francis. Bow tie quaking, he backs out of the room slowly at first, and then skitters away. Laughter bubbles up from your chest, unbidden. You cover your mouth, but you can’t hide the shit-eating grin splitting your face as you devolve into a fit of giggles.

You’re the reason she was out today?! This puts the cherry on top of your rarely acquired good day.

All at once, awareness smacks you in the face. You’re laughing at someone's misery in front of an esteemed Watcher.

Unable to hide the amusement still plain on your face, you place a hand on his forearm, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell her it was me! She already hates me! I promise I didn’t tell the cooks to add it to everyone's food!”

Francis, you betrayed me!

He chuckles, placing a hand over yours. “I assure you—your secret is safe with me.”

The contact makes your heart race. Your eyes flick down to his lips then back up to his enchanting eyes. It was only a millisecond, but you’re worried he noticed.

“You’re sweet,” your mouth moves before your mind. “I mean—thank you!” Shaking off the slip of the tongue.

Stop it. Why am I flirting??? Who even am I right now.

With a sassy tilt of his head, Emmrich doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s not my favorite Watcher, either.”

You share a lighthearted smile and bite your lip.

Shit. He’s so charming!

He pulls away and you miss the warmth of his hand as the moment ends, wishing for more.

Emmrich hesitates, mulling over something silently before asking, “Would you be interested in having tea with me sometime? It would be my pleasure to get to know you.”

“Me?! I’m not that interesting,” you pause, redirecting your thoughts. “I’d love to!”

“There is more to you than meets the eye, dear.” Softly chastising, he takes a moment to admire your bashful look. “Everyone is entitled to their privacy—it is not my place to pry. However, I hope you feel comfortable enough to trust me, in time. How does Tea in the Garden sound? Let’s say–noon?”

“Tomorrow?” You ask with a dumbfounded expression.

Not only does he want to date you, but so soon as well? What does he see in you?

Emmrich nods, “Unless you’re busy, of course. We can always reschedule for another day.”

You typically get an hour for lunch, so you’re eager to agree. If it goes over, you won’t have the strength to end it early.

But….

What Matron Thistle doesn’t know can’t harm her.

“Tomorrow’s perfect!” you blurt out excitedly.

“Yes!” Manfred hisses, his excitement palpable in his raised arms.

Emmrich’s eyes brighten, shimmering in the dim room. “Wonderful! I’m looking forward to it. Now, please, continue your meal. I am sorry to interrupt you yet again.”

“You can interrupt me anytime.” The words stumble out of your mouth easily, but lose volume by the end as your confidence wanes.

Emmrich takes your hand in his, dipping gracefully to kiss it. “Goodnight, dear.”

“G-goodnight!” you stutter, mind utterly broken from the small token of affection.

“G’night!” Manfred waves, and you return his gesture with a small laugh.

“Goodnight, Manfred.”

After they leave you collapse back into a chair, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

You want him in ways you thought had dried-up long ago. But the water has been set free, careening through the familiar, desiccated paths it left behind. It’s nice to feel desire again, after all this time. But it feels laced with danger–hoping for something you’ve never truly had with a man you barely know.

It’s just a matter of time before he sees in you what everyone else does. Nothing. No prospects, no friends–not anymore, anyway.

The one friend you had was sent away for causing too many fights, finally earning a prolonged stay in the most dangerous part of the Necropolis. You haven’t heard from her in six months, and count yourself left behind.

Even through the doubts, you smile as you finish your meal. A warm blush settles across your face that not even walking back through cold halls can extinguish.

A soft noise pulls you from your reverie. You come to a halt, the ruffle of your clothes fading to silence as you listen.

The hair on the back of your neck raises, and you start to panic. Eyes darting around the empty, seemingly endless hall for a threat with fisted hands.

“Mreow!” A black cat emerges from a dark corner, its green eyes matching the surrounding lamps.

Heart pounding in your chest, you let out a breath of relief, feeling quite silly now.

“Hi there!!! You’re so pretty!” you coo, all too excited to see a new furry friend.

The cat rubs up against your leg, doubling back in between them like a figure eight. Its fur glistens in the dark, thick and healthy looking, and its figure is lean and muscular, befitting an outdoor cat.

“Ooh, thank you! You’re so cute. Can I pet you??” You lean down, offering your hand.

The cat sniffs you for only a moment before rubbing its cheek against your fingers. Cautiously, you scratch behind its ears and your heart melts as it chases your touch, raising its head into your palm, eyes closed.

“Such a trusting lil guy, huh? Do you wanna come home with me?”

As soon as you think the cat distribution system finally got to you, the cat perks up as if it heard something, and then scampers away.

Maybe another time.

Sighing heavily, you return to your room alone with a mind swimming with possibilities and failures.

You need to get some sleep.

You have a date tomorrow, after all.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, threatening your peaceful rest before a busy day. Lazily humming a relaxing tune, you let your mind wander, never staying on any specific thought, and the day fades away to a fitful slumber, plagued by dreams.

Tag list: @planetahmane, @l0calgoth, @ohlookacow, @severusminerva, @thepalehorsevictoria

@sllverchariot, @mollymauksboi, @haunting-6, @czarzarr, @pwney

@farore05, @fallen---alien, @skiddyyo, @muddiestpath, @nin-dy-tro

@mxfiggs, @godival33, @daddymothmilkers, @charliebear2105

Next chapter ->

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lilmissnatcat24 · 7 months ago

Text

Electric Sheep Chapter Three- Yep, That's Me. You're Probably Wondering How I Got In This Situation.

64.media.tumblr.com

Garrus reveals how he spent the past two years.

pairing: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian

rating: Explicit

tags: Lovers to enemies to lovers, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Minor Character Death, ,Violence, Blood and Gore, Torture, Disturbing Themes, Dual POV, Earthborn (Mass Effect), Ruthless (Mass Effect), Mass Effect 2, Whump, Eventual Smut, Requited Unrequited Love, Mind Control, Pining, so much fucking pining that even i'm a little disturbed, Hurt/Comfort, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, OC Central, a kid show called the electromenom that teaches shepard about basic physics, yet another cliffhanger ending (sorry), second in series

cover: done by the stunning @/milkywayes!!!!!

lil text blurb:

The door of the MedBay slid open. He saw the familiar sleek and tidy bob of gray hair pop out from around the corner.

“She’s waking soon, if you want to speak to her.”

Dr. Chakwas had nearly fallen out of her chair when she saw Garrus carrying Shepard into the MedBay. Shepard, she was prepared for; but a man she thought was a ghost? Her face paled, then turned a remarkable shade of green he didn’t realize humans could obtain. She rubbed her eyes a few times, the first thing out of her mouth was some sort of stuttered question of whether he had a twin brother or not. When he snapped that he was not what she should be focused on, he swore a little tear formed in the corner of her eye as she began to work feverishly on Shepard’s facial wound.

Garrus was prepared for her. He knew she’d defected to Cerberus not long after Joker’s quite public and now quite infamous schism from the Alliance. Hell, half of the galaxy knew. When you hack into mainstream news channels of about ten different alien species exposing a vast network of conspiracies tied to him getting stripped of his wings, then steal the multi-billion dollar turian-human pet project to boot and becoming the subject to one of the galaxy’s most expensive and prolific bounties in its entire history, people tend to pay attention. Garrus even swore that there was a movie coming out soon based on it, the human pilot named something like Jacky or Joffy. Dr. Chakwas, true to form, went much more quietly.

“Garrus?” she asked quietly, as if it were a swear to say his name out loud and she would be punished severely.

He turned back to Miranda, electing to ignore Dr. Chakwas’s existence entirely. “Where will you have me bunk?”

#mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #mass effect fanfic #shakarian #shepard x garrus #garrus vakarian #ao3 fanfic #femshep #electric sheep #out of eden

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aangarchy · 3 months ago

Note

I really hope you write that atla fanfic that you said you want write but wont. After reading all the bullet points I was like…this is really good thanks for at least sharing it. Love your thoughts and your blog!

Alright, you're tempting me. I'll post an excerpt from a finished chapter below the cut. I don't have an ao3 account (i do have a wattpad but god knows what i'll find there if i reopen the app after centuries of catching dust) so you'll just have to deal with tumblr's layout for it.

Two things:

1. english is not my first language. Please keep that in mind while you read. If some language seems repetitive or too simple, or there's spelling/grammatical errors, it's because of that.

2. I will reiterate that i started writing this story at age 14-15. The original file is from 2014, on my USB, and i have edited and rewritten parts so many times i've lost count. I'm still rereading and editing stuff once in a while. This is purely for my own personal pleasure and will probably never be published bc in my own opinion i'm just not meant to be a writer. I'm not asking for criticism or tips.

To add some context to this sample: the story basically hinges on the legend of Korra taking place in a time equivalent to the 1920's. In my story Korra dies aged 106, meaning Shen is born in the year equivalent to our late 2000's, making him a teenager in the late 2010's early 2020's. There's internet, smartphones, social media, tv etc. This part of the chapter takes place after the Earthking invited every 16yr old earthbender for a test, looking for the Avatar.

Thank you for reading and enjoy!

The town hall seems eerily quiet when we arrive. The only indication there is something going on, is the two royal guards standing by the massive entrance. I recognize their uniforms from back when I lived in Ba sing se. They'd only really show up in the middle or the upper ring, since that's usually where the Earthking likes to spend his time. It's extremely rare for an Earthking to set foot in the lower ring, let alone outside of Ba sing se, I'm quite certain it hasn't actually happened in my lifetime. Until now.

I walk up to the door and one of the guards holds out his hand to stop me.

"Invitation?" He asks in a deep grumbling voice.

I search my jacket for the folded piece of paper that contains my invite. After I awkwardly fumble it out of my pocket I hold it out to show the guard. He nods, his green tassels on his uniform hat bobbing along with him. The guard on the left nods as well, opening the massive decorated wooden door to allow me entry. I move to step inside.

"Invitation?" The guard bellows behind me.

I turn around to see Yahno holding up his hands defensively. "Hey man, I'm just here for moral support."

I can practically feel the guard raise an eyebrow. "No entry without invitation." His lack of words really makes him sound like a caveman.

"Alright, alright." Yahno backs away, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his gray parka. "I'll be outside okay?" He says to me, and I manage to nod before the guard all but smacks the door shut in my face.

When I turn around, I'm met with the remnants of what once must have been a beautiful hallway. The carpet spanning the length of the hallway used to be a rich emerald green with what looks like delicate floral patterns, but it has been dulled by over a hundred and fifty years of people trampling over it. The one on the stairs is a bit less faded, indicating the upper floors don't get used nearly as much as the first floor. Pillars made of rich brown marble face each other, but the cracks are incredibly obvious, especially the places where someone tried to fix them with grout that doesn't match the color of the pillar. Tapestries decorate the walls. I get a bit closer to inspect what they're supposed to represent, but it's barely distinguishable due to the amount of dust, and how much the sun has bleached the fabric. I can just make out a figure in the middle, a small child wearing yellow robes and an arrow on his head. An airnomad, probably.

I silently trudge op the stairs. I could still run. I could just jump out the back window. They wouldn't notice one candidate not showing up right?

Though it would arguably look suspicious if one candidate goes missing and the Avatar happens to still not be found.

I skip the second floor and head straight to the third. This floor compared to the first floor is almost empty. The sills of the wooden doors are cracked, the paint chipped in several places. There's a faded rectangular mark on the wall where a painting used to be. I walk all the way to the end, where a chair is placed outside of the door marked number 6. Inhaling deeply through my nose and exhaling through my mouth, I take a seat in the chair. My hand reaches for my neck, the annoying tingle I've felt there since my family vacation to Republic City returning in full force. I've since identified this feeling as a spiritual thing. It happened the first time when I laid eyes on the spirit portal in Republic City, and it happened again on the last summer solstice.

Korra, for all moments to finally reach out to me this is not the one. I say in my head.

A year and a half. That's how long I've known I'm the Avatar. And I still haven't made contact with any of my previous lives. Thanks to Yahno, ever the Avatar nerd, I now know Korra is supposed to reach out before I can talk to any of the others. Knowing what I know about Korra, she was never really all that connected to her spiritual side, despite being the Avatar that reopened the spirit portals, fought the Harmonic Convergence, and created an entirely new spirit portal in the middle of a city. Hopefully when she does show herself at one point or another, she'll actually be able to help me master the Avatar State. If not... I don't really want to think about what might happen if not.

A creaking sound from the door opening next to me startles me from my train of thought. Song, one of my classmates, specifically the girl who lent me her pencil on my first day, exits the room.

"Oh, hi Shen." She smiles brightly.

"Hey, how'd it go?" I ask, despite knowing the answer.

She leans closer to me, doe eyes looking straight into mine. "It's not me. Not that I'm shocked."

I manage to feign ignorance and nod solemnly at her answer. "It probably won't be me either."

She giggles. "Right? Wouldn't that be something."

Ouch.

I lean closer. "So... what is the test?" I whisper.

She shrugs. "He just asked me questions, and as soon as he determined my birthday is too far away from Avatar Korra's death, he let me leave. I was in there for all but five minutes."

I nod. Just like Yahno predicted, he's going to use his truth seeing ability. He thinks the Avatar knows their identity and is hiding. Not that he's wrong. I swallow, trying to get past the ball of nerves sinking in my stomach.

Another set of footsteps approaches in the hall. "What are you doing here?"

My face contorts from annoyance at the familiar voice.

"Doing the Avatar test just like everyone else our age, Uma." Song chippers.

Uma stops in front of me, I jump out of my chair instinctively.

"Well this one can just go home already." She gestures at me and scrunches her nose. "There's no way the kid who's earthbending is worse than my four year old little brother's is the Avatar." She chuckles.

"And there's no way someone with a nasty attitude like yours could be the Avatar either, Uma." I retort.

Her nostrils flare as she takes the insult, but doesn't want to give me the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she huffs and chooses to lean against the wall, checking her short nails for dirt.

Song gives me a sympathetic look. "I think your earthbending is just fine, Shen. Listen I have to go, good luck in there!" She swings her bag over her shoulder and marches off.

Another royal guard stands in the doorway. "Next." He bellows through the hall.

Uma steps forward. "Officer, I'm pretty sure you won't have to test this one. We could skip him so I can go next and we won't waste our time." She smiles sickly sweet.

The temptation I feel to just firebend her smile off of her face to make her swallow her words is immense, but my fear of being discovered keeps me in check.

"We test every single person that received an invitation. We don't want to miss a single one." The guard responds.

Uma blows her fringe out of her face and returns to her spot to lean against the wall.

I try to ignore the taste of bile in the back of my throat as I walk in, head held high.

The Earthking is sat at an ornate mahogany desk, scribbling something on the papers in front of him. The decorated fire place behind him hasn't been used in decennia, dust having settled on top of the wood rotting inside.

The king looks up from his writing, straight at me. His face looks younger than I imagined, seeming to be about 45 instead of his actual age of 56. The only true signs of aging are the streaks of gray in his brown hair, which is pulled up in a traditional Fire Nation top bun, one of the only tells of the king's mixed origins. I glance at his feet, and like I expected, he isn't wearing shoes. The carpet that should be reaching under his chair has been rolled up under the desk so the bare soles of his feet can be in direct contact with the marble flooring. He smiles sweetly, which makes me even more nervous. It'd be much easier to lie to a man whom I dislike up front, not a sweet middle aged fatherly type. I don't do well with fatherly types.

"Shen Gao right?" He asks, voice smooth like honey.

I shove my daddy issues in a mental box and nod. "That's right your majesty." I bow.

His smile widens. "Please, sir is fine." He gestures at the empty seat in front of him.

My footsteps are amplified by the stone floor as I approach. When I sit, the chair creaks a little.

"Nice to meet you Shen, my name is Seizan."

I nod.

"I know it might be a little intimidating to sit in front of a king. You can just address me as sir, no need for all those pesky formalities." He winks, resulting in an unpleasant shiver going up my spine. "Now, what do you expect to happen today?"

I hesitate. "I expect to be tested on whether or not I might be the Avatar."

He nods. "And what do you think the result might be?"

I swallow. Half-truths. "I don't know." I say. Technically not a lie, since I truly don't know whether or not Yahno's plan will save me today.

The king leans back in his chair. "Alright Shen, I'm just going to ask you a few simple questions. All I need is for you to answer them honestly."

I nod again. As the king takes a different sheet of paper, my eye is drawn by the lone candle standing on a round side table, right next to a guard. As if the guard was stationed there to watch the candle. Why would a simple candle warrant such protection?

"Shen, were you born in the year of the rabbit?"

"Yes." I answer, ripping my gaze from the candle and meeting the king's.

"When is your birthday?"

"December 27th." I answer. My first half-truth. Technically I don't know when my actual date of birth is, but my family celebrates on December 27th every year, that was the day my mother found me, abandoned by the old lantern fountain. It is the date of birth written on my adoption certificate.

The king carefully writes down my answers. "Hm. About twelve weeks after Avatar Korra's death. It would be very late but not impossible." The king muses, his lips pursed under his neatly groomed dark mustache.

I breathe out. Looks like I got away with my first half truth. I try to relax, slowing my breathing and my heartbeat. The king looks at me sideways, giving me a once-over.

"Are you an earthbender?" He asks next, tapping his pen on his chin.

"Yes."

He picks up a clay disk and sets it in front of me. "Just to make sure, can you lift this using your earthbending?"

I nod and stretch out my hand, palm facing up. With a simple upwards flick, the disk steadily floats above the desk. I hold it there for a second and then set it back down.

"Would you say you're a skilled earthbender?" The king asks.

I nearly guffaw loudly at the question. Calling me skilled would be a massive exaggeration.

I shake my head. "No. We only discovered I was an earthbender two years ago. I'm still catching up."

He puts his pen down and leans forward on his arms, seemingly intrigued. "Really? Is there a reason for this late discovery? Normally earthbenders show signs before the age of five."

"I was raised by my mother, who is a nonbender. She didn't know to look for signs."

"And your father?"

"Not present in my life, sir." I was nine when he left. Old enough to know he was also a nonbender, and two nonbenders usually aren't able to produce a bender. But that's not what the king asked.

He carefully takes note of all of my answers. "Rare case, to discover earthbending this late." He checks a pocketwatch. A guard on my left coughs.

"Where were you born?"

"Ba sing se."

The king's eyes widen a bit in surprise. "Oh, pray tell, why haven't I seen you for any of the Avatar tests in my own city?"

"We moved to Swordfish Bay over the summer. These Avatar tests didn't start til late fall." I explain.

The king nods. "Okay, fair." Amber eyes scan the notes, the only other sign of his mixed ethnicity. Everything else about this man, tanned skin and broad features, screams Earthkingdom. But those subtleties are small reminders that he's never fully been Earthkingdom. He's never fully been one of us.

"And the White Lotus didn't pass by to test you when you were little?"

"Back then it was still believed I was a nonbender."

"Right."

An uncomfortable silence stretches as he ponders over my answers.

"Curious case, you. An earthbender that escaped the initial Avatar search because you were believed to be a nonbender. Our method of finding the Avatar would have failed as well, seeing as you probably didn't possess any bending during that time either."

I wipe the clammy palms of my hands on my pants. Calm calm calm. It's only now the king pointed it out that it dawns on me. I haven't ever been tested before. Nobody ever thought to check by our house because no earthbender was recorded there. My sister being a nonbender as well, they never had any reason to pass by. The king has every reason to suspect me now.

He raises a bushy eyebrow. "Have you ever tried bending any other elements?"

Shit.

What do I answer to that? I can't flat out say no, he'll know right away that I'm lying. I try to stabilize my breathing. An idea creeps up in my mind.

"I've tried waterbending." I respond. "It didn't work." Sweat trickles down my spine. It's not a lie. I still haven't been able to bend water.

The king nods, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What about the other elements?"

Double shit.

"I have tried." This isn't a lie.

"What was the result?"

Triple shit.

I lock eyes with the king. I can practically feel my heart beating in my throat. He knows I'm nervous. He can feel it. I can't hide anything at all from him as long as my feet touch the ground. So what if I make sure he can't tell? Slowly and subtly, I lift my feet off of the floor ever so slightly.

"Didn't work." I respond curtly.

The king intertwines his fingers in front of him, resting his elbows on the desk. He stares at me but I don't break eye contact. It is the truth if I will it to be the truth. I beg my body to react as if I'm telling the truth. I know I don't have a tell, at least not visibly. But right now all I can do is hope he doesn't find an invisible tell.

He is the first to break eye contact. I suppress my sigh of relief. I'm not out of the woods yet.

"So, Shen," the king says softly, but I can't unhear the edge his words suddenly seem to have. "You're saying you tried bending elements besides earth and water, and had no results?"

I don't respond.

"You're not a firebender?" He asks again.

I breathe in. "I am not a firebending master, no." This is a half-truth I practiced with Yahno. I am a firebender, but I am not a master. Semantics.

"I'm assuming you're going to say you're not an airbending master either?" He raises one eyebrow, giving me the side eye looking up from his piece of paper.

I don't respond.

His eyes move to the candle sitting on the table with the guard. He nods, and the guard places the candle on the edge of the desk. So it is some kind of special candle? It can't detect Avatars, can it? Would such a thing as an Avatar detecting candle exist?

"Shen, did you know that in the Fire Nation, it is prudent to find out whether or not a newborn is a firebender or not? If they don't find out quickly, one toddler tantrum could set a house ablaze. It's important to detect firebenders fast, but how do you think it's done when the child is too small to execute any bending moves?"

I shake my head. "I have no idea, sir." My eyes flick to the candle. A firebender detecting candle?

The Earthking doesn't look away from the candle. "Well, the parents would usually place the baby by a fire. In ancient times, it would be a ceremonial fire pit. Nowadays, they usually prefer smaller fires like torches," his eyes flick to mine, "or candles."

I swallow.

"You see," he continues, "When a child is a firebender, and a candle is placed next to them, near the face, it'll grow. The flame will become bigger, wider, until it becomes nearly uncontainable where you'd have to snuff it out before it does any damage. That's when you know the child is a firebender. The stronger the flame, the stronger the firebender."

My eyes flare. Candles detect firebenders. The Fire Nation's method for detecting benders, which Yahno had mentioned. It all makes sense now. That's why the candle at our old house in Ba sing se grew that night. The night I held a flame in my hand for the first time. The night I firebent for the first time. The night I discovered I am the Avatar.

The king doesn't notice my reaction, or pretends not to.

"It's not a foolproof method." The king shrugs. "This method is specifically used to detect firebending when the subject doesn't yet know they are a firebender."

I know I am a firebender.

The king takes the candelabrum and slides it in between us. My eyes focus on the flame. The flame grows when the subject is a firebender. Usually firebenders that aren't aware of their abilities, probably because if they knew they could firebend they might cheat to change the results.

Wait.

I am a firebender. I could cheat to change the results. What if I bend the flame in order to keep it small? What if I subdue the flame just enough?

I keep my eyes on the flickering fire. It's about the size of a drop of water. See the height, I tell myself. Memorize it. The way it flickers along the flow of air in this room.

The king lets go of the candle, having set it right in front of me. I stare at the flame and grab hold of it, keeping my hand under the table so no one notices. Subdue. Subdue. Subdue.

The tingle in the back of my neck starts again. Not now. Any time but now.

I can feel the kings eyes locked on me, but I can't afford to look and lose my grip on the candle. I hold my hand to my side in a claw like motion, moving very slowly so the guard by the door doesn't notice. Any time the candle seems to grow, I close the space between my fingers more. I can feel the fire flickering in my hand, the familiar heartbeat and warmth bouncing on my fingertips, even from this distance I'm fully connected to it. Now that's a sign of a promising bender alright.

Sweat forms on my forehead and my upper lip. A minute passes, but it feels like an hour. The king eventually stands and snuffs the candle with the tip of his fingers, and I can finally let go.

"Hm, seems you're not a firebending master, like you said." He says, folding his hands behind his back.

I stare at him for a second, not sure if I heard him correctly.

"That's right." I confirm.

He gestures toward the door. "Well, clearly you're not who I'm looking for, then. You're free to go Shen." He smiles that fatherly smile again.

That's it? I can't believe it. It actually worked?

Hesitantly, I stand up from my chair. "Thank you for your time."

I bow respectfully and turn to leave. I walk towards the door, trying to make sure it doesn't look like I'm scrambling to get out of here. As I get there though, the guard steps in front of me.

My brows furrow. "He said I was free to go." I say.

The guard doesn't move, doesn't do anything. Then I feel it. The hairs on the back of my neck spring up, I can barely make out a fwoom as heat approaches my back. My instincts take over. I turn around and am faced with a massive flame heading straight towards my face. Without even really thinking about it I hold my hands out in front of me. The blast is so strong the impact sends me sliding. My back hits the door knocking the air out of my lungs. When I lower my hands the fire has dissipated, and the guard who shot the fireblast looks at me with wide eyes, like he just saw something unbelievable. I glance back at the king, who is now no longer smiling fatherly, but rather menacingly. The reality of what just happened sinks in.

I just blocked fire by bending it. In front of the king.

Fuck. Me.

The guard quickly regains his composure, and the king claps.

"Excellent!" He exclaims. "After all these years, I didn't think today would be the day."

He steps out from behind his desk and extends his hand towards me. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Avatar Shen."

#atla #atla fanfic #tlok fanfic #earth avatar #avatar #tlok #the era of shen #avatar shen #ask dori #anon #avatar the last airbender

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danceswithsporks · 2 years ago

Text

Calm- Part 1

Part 2 of 6 in the Complete Series!

Wrecker x Seamstress Reader

Warning this fic will contain spoilers for the season 2 finale.

Story About: You love how calm and peaceful your life on Pabu is. When trajedy strikes the island, a handsome clone pulls you into his world and you discover there’s more to the Galaxy then you realize.

Chapter About: A tsunami shakes the island and you require the help of someone strong to help you out.

Authors note: Well here we are everyone!! Calm is finally here! I’ve honestly been a bit nervous to post this first part, kinda worried that it won’t be as good as Warm, but I still want to give y’all a great story. So I hope the wait was worth it!

Also! Here is a height comparison reference to put into perspective Wreckers height. I’m basing the other persons size off of the average height for women so feel free to alter that however you want! But damn is our boy TALL!

Now. Without further ado! Here’s the opening chapter to Calm!

Calm, that’s how you’d describe Pabu. The weather was always perfect, save for a rare storm every few months, and the waves always crashed against the rocks of the island in a calming rhythm. Standing on the patio of your shop in upper Pabu, you could easily watch the fishing boats on the horizon bob up and down against the waves while the sun silhouetted them. You were born here, raised on the sea life brought in daily by the fishermen. While others had escaped whatever horrors they experienced out there in the galaxy by coming here, you’d learned to walk on these cobblestones. Scraped your knees in the plaza at the top of the island and learned to swim in the bay on the back of the island.

While others had brought their businesses with them when they immigrated to Pabu, like the tea shop family or the sweet girl who ran the inn, your shop had been there for generations. Your grandmother had opened it when she immigrated from Coruscant and then passed it to your mom, who passed it to you. While your parents had decided to stay in Pabu, your aunt on her side had moved back to Coruscant. Determined to bring fashion and style to Pabu, though those trends were far above what anyone would want to wear here. She was doing well for herself there and had offered for you to live there countless times. But you loved Pabu and loved how calm it was here. You wouldn’t trade this peace for anything in the Galaxy.

You stood at the stone wall of your patio and looked down as another boat left the port. It was the Chief's boat, his daughter, and the blonde girl you’d seen walking around earlier the only passengers. From the whispers of the elder women who helped in your shop, the ship that had arrived carrying Phee had been filled with clones. You’d seen them briefly as they walked by, the three men were unique in their sizes and looks, weren’t clones supposed to look the same? Briefly, the large one had turned his face and stared for a moment before he continued, and oh how your heart fluttered for a moment. The shoulders alone on him had your mind swimming with ideas, you liked a big boy.

The glass of water next to you trembled against the stone and you stood back with a confused look on your face. That…didn’t seem right. All around you the wildlife screeched and scattered away from lower Pabu and towards the top. Well, that wasn’t normal either. You stepped away from the wall and made your way back inside. “Animals are acting weird.” Left you nonchalantly as you made your way back to the gown you were working on.

“What do you mean by that, dear?” One of the elder women, Magda, looked up from the quilt she’d been knitting.

“After that little shake, they started rushing toward the top of the island. Sea birds took off too.” You walked over to the woman and looked over the blue and gray quilt she was almost finished with. How she did it was beyond you. Sitting there and knitting the same rows over and over again for hours a day seemed so monotonous. To your surprise, the woman looked up at you seriously. “What?”

“What did the water look like?” Sue, another of the elder woman who worked with you, asked. The pants she’d been hemming, were now left forgotten.

“Like water?” The ground shook once more and you suddenly felt a wave of dread wash over you. Maybe you should go check the water? The memory of something you’d learned in school ran through your mind. Stepping outside, you realized something was very wrong. All across your patio were countless moon-yos, their large eyes staring down toward the water. It took you a moment to shuffle your way towards the wall once more but when you did, your heart jumped to your throat. “Tsunami”

The water of the sea receded away from the shore and before you could even scream for those around you to run, the warning system roared across the island. In theory, you would be safe up here, right? In school, they’d told you that the waters wouldn’t get as high as upper Pabu. It was lower Pabu that could be wiped away completely. Already you could see those below rushing upwards. “Ladies! Time to go!” You made your way back inside and found Magda and Sue continuing with their work. “We need to go.”

“Oh darling, don’t fret. The waters won’t reach us here. The last time we had one of these lower Pabu was only partially destroyed.” Sue waved you off as she stuck another pin in the cuff of the pants.

You grimaced at her in uncertainty. “Yeah, I’d rather be safe than sorry. Let’s go.” You shooed the two women eagerly and after another ‘Let’s go’, they finally got up. Following behind them, you made sure to lock the door of your business. As cute as the moon-yos were, you’d rather they not seek shelter within your inventory.

“Grandma!”

“Mom!”

The families of your two helpers rushed towards all three of you and sighed in relief.

“They were giving you lip about leaving, weren’t they?” Sue’s daughter rushed to her mother's side and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders.

“You know how they get. Nothing I couldn’t handle though.” More people rushed up the path and you silently thanked your parents for adding on the enclosed patio. Without it, you’d all be overtaken by the crowds in no time.

“We would have been fine.” Magda waved off her granddaughter's extended hand. “The waters never come this high.”

Blue eyes rolled as the granddaughter, Lacey, crossed her arms. “Grandma, you know the Chiefs rule. Everyone heads to the top just in case.”

Magda scoffed as you walked behind her, shooing her and the others towards the main road. “How would you know about these rules? You weren’t even alive when the last one happened!”

Lacey slid her arm around her grandmother and helped steady her as people rushed by. “They teach us about it in school, grandma. Plus we just had a drill last month.”

“Did we?” A humph left Magda as she looked around at the crowds.

Shaking your head, you continued to herd your little group upwards. You felt like you were herding cattle with the way you were moving around your group to keep them all together. All around you, people were rushing towards the top of the island. The island shook as the large wave finally hit and your group staggered for a moment before resuming your hike up the mountain. Everyone around you seemed to freeze and while you wanted to turn back and look as well, the two elder women in front of you seemed to be spurred on and were now rushing to the top.

By the time you and your group had reached the top of the island, people had begun to settle down. Across the courtyard you could see the chief speaking with the men from before, Phee standing close by. A part of you wondered what was being discussed, but Magda drew your attention instead.

“There weren’t as many survivors the last time this happened. My mother was lost.” She looked around at the groups of people huddled together.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Your group continued your path toward the Archium. You could see more of the elders settled down with their families. To think this could be their second or third or even fourth sea surge was wild to you.

“Last time we didn’t have the wall to protect us.” Sue shooed her daughter away as the girl fussed over her once more. “But the needs are still the same afterward.”

You tilted your head as you finally arrived at the Archium. “What do you mean?” You offered your hand to Sue and helped her sit against one of the arches next to the building.

“People have lost their homes, their livelihoods. They have nothing now. They’ll need places to stay and supplies to get through these next weeks.” Magda sat with a huff next to Sue.

You squatted back on your heels and began to chew your lip. “Supplies, huh?” A hum left you as you thought for a moment before an idea began to form. “If I got the supplies, do you think you and the others could make some blankets, clothes, stuff like that?” You watched as the two women looked at each other and then the others around you for a moment before nodding.

“Bring us whatever you can, we’ll get those who know how to knit and sew together and begin working.” Magda hummed as she leaned back against the wall, her eyes closing. “For now, I think I’ll take a nap.”

“Sounds like we have a plan. I’m gonna go talk to Shep and see what he thinks.” With a slap on your thighs, you stood and made your way across the courtyard. Passing by the tree you noticed many people resting in the small patch of grass. Pausing for a moment, you looked at everyone settling in and smiled at the sight of the large clone from earlier and the small girl that was with him curled against each other. A part of you began to wonder if she was his daughter, if somewhere out in the galaxy he had a wife. You could have sworn you’d heard something about clones aging fast, but who knew how accurate that was? People were always saying things that weren’t true.

Someone called your name and with a final look at the large man, you made your way to the source. “Shep, Phee. Good to see you two made it out ok!” You smiled happily as you hugged Phee who looked you over quickly.

“Everyone from the shop make it out ok?” Phee watched as you nodded and then motioned toward your group. “Took some convincing but I got them up here.”

“Phee” One of the clones from earlier, the one with a face tattoo, a bold choice but who were you to judge? “Tech and I talked it over and we think we’re gonna stay. If you’ll have us?”

“Yes!” You covered your mouth quickly as soon as the words left you. All eyes turned to you and you chuckled quickly. “Sorry. It’s just that extra help will be needed. They look strong and capable. Plus with their ship, it would be helpful to get supplies from the other islands. Which brings me to why I’m here.”

Shep crossed his arms and chuckled. “Let’s get some introductions out of the way first.” He motioned to the two clones. “Tech and Hunter, meet one of the island's seamstresses.”

You finished the introduction for him, letting the two know your name, before extending your hand to each of them. “Nice to meet you both.” Smiling, you nodded towards the tree. “Saw your other two friends sleeping over there.”

“That would be our sister Omega and our brother Wrecker.” Tech adjusted his goggles and looked past you and towards his siblings before his gaze shifted toward the woman he’d just been hanging over the ledge with.

So she was his sibling and not his child. That sent a surprising wave of relief over you. “Wow, unique names.” You chuckled as the men shrugged.

“You said you were here for a reason?” Phee wrapped her arm around Techs shoulder and drew his attention back to the conversation. He was practically drooling over the tea shop owner.

“Ah, right!” With a clap of your hands, you told the group your idea. “I have more than enough stock to supply the ladies with. We should be able to get a few blankets and basic clothing out of that. I can call my suppliers on the other islands as well and see if they can spare anything.”

“You’d do that?” Phee watched as you shrugged with a smile. “Of course. A community stands together through all the good and bad. Mom said that all the time.”

“We’ll find a way to pay you back for the supplies.” Shep reached over and grabbed your shoulder gently. He was glad to see you stepping into the same role your mother used to have. So many times she’d stepped in and taken care of refugees arriving with nothing. To see you helping in the same way was heartwarming.

Smiling, you shook your head and patted his hand. “Don’t worry about it, Shep. I’m just glad to help. Which is something I will need to get everything over here, some of the bolts of fabric can be pretty heavy.”

Phee nodded with a smirk. “I’m sure our new friends here will be happy to help.” With a slap to Tech's back, she caused the clone to stumble slightly before he regained his footing and adjusted his goggles.

“Indeed. Allow us to get Omega settled and we will be available to help.” He tapped at his datapad a few times. “It seems the seismic activity is subsiding. I estimate the waters will recede fully in approximately two days. However, a more pressing matter needs to be addressed.”

“What’s that?” Hunter looked over Tech's shoulder and at the datapad. His eyes ran over the information on the screen and he quickly understood the problem. “Your water is most likely contaminated. That’s gonna need to be figured out quickly. Make sure your people know not to drink anything not already bottled or in containers.”

A long breath was released from you as your hands found their way to your hips. “Well, I’ll let you guys handle that. I’m gonna let my group know and then head to my shop.”

The two clones, Phee and Shep all nodded to you before you turned and headed back to your small group. You let them know the current plan as well as the new information about the water. Lacey took on the job of spreading the word to the others about the water and agreed to look for others to help with the clothing. Satisfied that everything was under control, you headed back to your shop.

-*-

The moon-yo’s had done a number on your patio, fruit and other ‘gifts’ were scattered across the ground. With a sigh, you sidestepped some of the mess and made your way to the stone wall, and looked down at the calming waters that now covered the lower half of your island. The buildings below the waves would survive, they were built sturdy and with the possibility of a tsunami in mind. But everything inside, people’s belongings and prized possessions, would be gone. You realized at that moment how lucky you were to live in upper Pabu. Your home would almost always be safe and secured here. The wall from which you now looked over would always protect your beloved home and generations of hard work and memories. You’d do all you could to help those affected by the tsunami.

The squeak of the gate drew your attention away from the sea. Turning to greet the new arrival, you smiled brightly. “I was hoping they’d send you.”

Wrecker had finally fallen asleep beneath the large tree, his precious sister safe and sound beside him, when he felt Hunter shake his shoulder. With a groan, he’d tried to quietly pull himself away from the small blonde who woke for a moment before settling back into a restless sleep once more. His Vod had quickly filled him in on what was currently happening and before he had a chance to ask for a rations stick, he was so kriffing hungry, he was sent off to find the island seamstress who needed help.

What he hadn’t expected to find was the woman he’d passed earlier in the day looking over the edge of the island wall. Unafraid and unconcerned by the height. It had been the smile on her lips that had caught his attention earlier, for the briefest of moments he found himself lost in them. But then Omega had drawn his attention away from the woman and he’d quickly been distracted. That smile had stayed in the back of his mind though. Now he was staring at that smile once more. “You were hoping they’d send me?”

You nodded as you stepped forward and extended your hand to him, your name falling from your lips as you watched him shake your hand back. “I was. Gonna need someone tall and strong to get some bolts of fabric down. You seem to fit that bill perfectly.”

“O-oh.” Wrecker watched as your hand practically vanished inside his, your name rolling around in his mouth like a piece of candy. “Glad I can help.” He smiled as he released your hand and waited for you to lead the way inside. Instead, you turned and headed back towards the wall. After a moment of looking down, you looked over your shoulder at him and motioned for him to join you. Swallowing the fear already building inside him, he made his way over.

“Crazy how so much can change in the blink of an eye.” You hummed softly as you crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, your eyes skimming the ocean for any boats.

Wrecker stood a few steps away from the wall and focused on you instead. How your curves moved with your body as you found a comfortable position to lean against the wall in. He took in the way your hair was pulled up and away from your face, a multicolored hair clip holding the strands in place against the back of your head. It looked soft, Wrecker wondered what it would feel like sliding through his thick fingers. Your voice pulled him from his thoughts and he nodded carefully. “Happens more often than you think.” He’d experienced that a lot lately.

Looking over your shoulder at him once more, you found him more steps than expected away from you. “What are you doing over there? I won’t bite.” You smirked playfully at him. “Unless you’re into that.” A blush crept across his cheeks and you bit your lip. Oh, he was cute.

“I..well…” Wrecker tried to find the right words to explain that he wasn’t a fan of heights, but then you made the comment about biting and he felt his head swim for a moment. Were you flirting with him? Him of all people? You giggled while turning to face him. He watched as you placed your hands behind you and boosted yourself up onto the wall, your back now facing the wide sea. “You should be careful.” It left him quicker than he intended.

“Don’t worry, Wrecker.” You purred his name as you leaned back a little and allowed a warm breeze to dance around you. “I’ve been doing this since I was a little girl. Now please, come closer?”

Your hand raised to him, beckoning for him to come closer to you and to the edge. “You could fall.” Was spoken carefully as he took a tentative step closer. Come on, Wrecker. A cute girl is flirting with you and calling you closer. The little voice inside his head was screaming at him to get the lead out of his boots and move all the way to the wall.

A happy hum came from you as you watched him take another step closer. Was he afraid of the ledge? “I guess it’s a good thing you’re here then. If I f-“ The island shook once more and due to the way you were balancing on one hand, you lost your balance and began to fall backwards.

“No!” Wrecker shot forward and grabbed your wrist quickly before pulling you against him and holding you tight, grounding you both to the island with his large frame. The tremor lasted for only a few seconds and when it finally ended he realized he’d squeezed his eyes shut.

Your heart felt like it was in your damn throat! Maybe he did have a point. The tightness in which he was holding you wasn’t painfully tight, which was surprising given his size, it was pretty nice. Against his body like this, you felt so small. Like a child hugging her father. Tilting your head back to look up at him, you realized he had to be at least six foot six. Stars, how could a man be so tall and so stacked? You noticed his eyes screwed tightly shut and with a little wiggle, you were able to free one of your arms and place it against his chest. “As I was saying, if I fall, you’ll be here to catch me.” Standing on your tiptoes, you tried to place a kiss on his cheek. But you were far too short to reach him.

Wrecker heard you clear your throat as he finally opened his eyes. Your hand patted his chest gently and he hoped you couldn’t feel his heart racing. Looking down at you he smirked, you were so little against him. He watched as you bit your lip and curled your finger up at him, beckoning for him to lean down. “Yes?”

With a happy hum, you closed the distance between you two and placed a lingering kiss against his cheek. “Thank you for saving me, Wrecker.” His hand around your back loosened and you used the opportunity to wiggle free from him. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

His hand raised to his cheek as he watched you bounce away and towards your shop. It didn’t go unnoticed to him that your breasts bounced with your movements. “Wait, how did you know I was hungry?”

“I felt your stomach rumble against my chest just a few moments ago.” With a wink, you headed inside your shop.

When you said you felt it in your chest, did you mean your boobs? The thought made his cheeks flush once more while something stirred below the belt. More importantly, you were going to feed him? Wrecker quickly followed you into your shop. Maybe he could flirt back?

-*-

Compared to him, your shop was small and intimate. He had to duck to enter the shop and had to be even more careful not to knock over a stack of boxes near the door. You disappeared behind a curtain while the large clone tried to find a place to wait without being in your way. Wrecker liked how your shop smelled, it reminded him of incense and the tea Tech made. He hummed softly as he leaned against the wall, it was comfortable and warm in the shop. No doubt he could easily fall asleep here. “S-so you make clothes?”

“Yeah!” Your voice carried from behind the curtain. “My family’s been in the business for generations.” Opening a jar on the counter, you pulled out a few of the cookies you’d baked the day before. Usually, you set them out for the kids that came through with their parents, but you could make an exception for the cutie in your shop. Moving over to the fridge, you pulled the sandwich you’d prepared for lunch out and placed it on the plate next to the cookies.

Wrecker nodded as he listened to you, the sound of something clanking against porcelain made him look at the dark blue curtain. “You must be good at measuring then.”

Was he trying to flirt with you? With a giggle, you picked up the plate and two sealed bottles of water. “That’s kinda part of the job.” Passing through the curtain, you held out the plate to him. “Why, you need help measuring something?” Wrecker coughed at your comment and you couldn’t hide the laugh that left you. He was so cute.

“N-no. Yes. I mean…” Wrecker picked up two of the cookies and ate them quickly. Another laugh left your lips and he found himself chuckling as well. Your laugh was contagious it seemed. “You have a nice laugh.”

Your cheeks flushed at his comment. “Thank you.” Looking down at the bottles of water, you bit your lip shyly. No one had ever complimented your laugh before. “Yours is nice too.” It was deep and full. When he laughed once more it felt like it was in your belly as well. Making warmth spread through you. “I should…start figuring out what we’re gonna take back.” Passing one of the bottles over to him, you pointed to the counter next to your register. “You can eat over there if you’d like, Wrecker.” You liked saying his name, it felt warm in your mouth.

Wrecker smiled as he looked over the plate of food. Cookies and a hearty-looking sandwich. His favorite kind of meal. Would it be weird if he said that he loved you? He watched you pick up a datapad and begin to look at the walls of fabric. He’d never actually flirted with anyone before, not on purpose. But you were cute, funny and nice. Plus you seemed to already know what he liked to eat! How exactly was he supposed to flirt with you? Maybe he should ask Hunter? For now, he’d have to do this himself based on things he’d heard from the other clones. Women liked compliments, didn’t they? “I like your shop. It’s cozy.”

“Thanks.” Looking up from your datapad, you watched as he took a happy bite from the sandwich. “Good?” When he smiled and nodded with his cheeks full of the food, you giggled loudly. “Good.” Smiling brightly, you looked back at the datapad and ran through your inventory. You had a good amount that you could give to the island. Not to mention you had a few blankets already done that you could donate as well. You’d take a decent hit doing this but you thankfully had savings that should cover most of the lost inventory. “So, Wrecker. Interesting name.” This time you didn’t look at him, your eyes scanning the wall of material trying to now locate the ones you needed. But you heard him chuckle and that warmth spread through you once more.

Swallowing the food in his mouth, he chuckled while opening the water. “My brothers picked it for me. I used to break things a lot and wreck things. So they picked that name.”

“Used to?” You smiled over your shoulder to him, earning a cute crooked smile back. Your dad was around his size and before he died he was accidentally breaking things of his size.

“Yeah. I guess I still kinda break things.” He reached behind his head to rub it awkwardly with a smile, knocking one of your shelves and sending a few of the trinkets on it flying. “Oh! Sorry!” He turned to fix the shelf and knocked a few of the items on the counter.

You let out a surprised squeal as you watched him turn multiple times, trying to fix the mess he was slowly growing. Laughing excitedly, you dropped the datapad and quickly moved over to help him. “Woah woah woah. Slow down there.” You raised your hands and grabbed his arms quickly, stopping him from loving anymore. Another laugh left you as you took in the growing blush on his face. “You’re kinda like a little wrecking ball, huh?”

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as he looked down at you. “Sorry.” Now he’d made a fool of himself in front of you. “I can pick it all up.” He moved to kneel down and hit the empty plate in the process, causing it to fall. His hand shot out and grabbed it before it could hit the floor, earning another giggle from you.

Stars, he was adorable. Giggling, you knelt with him and began to pick up some of the items that had fallen. “You’re really funny.”

Wrecker really hadn’t been trying to be funny, but knowing that he’d made you laugh made him laugh. “Sorry about the shelf, I’ll fix it.” He passed you a few of the items that had fallen. So much for flirting with you flawlessly.

You took the items from him and placed them up on the counter. “Oh don’t worry about that. I’ve been meaning to move it.” He just helped the process along. You watched the clone stand carefully and chew his lip. Oh man, he was so cute.

“You should get back to the materials. I can pick this all up.” It was the least he could do after making such a big mess.

“Oh, how sweet. But you don’t have to do that.” You waved your hand dismissively at the mess. “I can pick it up later.” Raising your hand out to him, you beckoned him towards you. “Besides, I have a different job for you.”

Wrecker swallowed as he moved around the counter and towards you. His hand slid into yours and he happily followed you towards the larger wall of fabric that spanned the length of the back of your shop. “How can I help?”

“Well, you can start by pushing me against this wall and kissing me.” You watched as he stared at you in surprise while squeezing your hand. A laugh left you as you quickly patted his hand. “I’m kidding. You’re not that lucky. Not yet at least.” He squeezed your hand once more, making another laugh leave you.

He smirked at your laugh. It reminded him of birdsong. “Not yet?” He hoped that meant what he thought it meant.

The way he smirked made your heart flutter. “Probably should know you for more than an hour before we do something like that.” Releasing his hand you moved closer to the wall and tilted your head back to locate the first bolt of fabric you’d need.

“So about two hours?” He watched as you placed your hands on your hips in thought. Oh, you had nice hips. He wondered how they’d feel in his large hands. To his delight, you laughed once more while looking over your shoulder at him.

“You’re really funny.” He sent you a happy smile making your cheeks flare. Was it wrong to want to just continue to hang out with him? He was funny and sweet and made you feel safe. Those arms of his looked like they could hold you in the warmest of bear hugs. But that would be wrong wouldn’t it? With a slightly sad sigh, you returned to the task at hand. “We should probably focus on getting back to the others.” Pointing up to a bolt of fabric, you smiled. “Can you use your exceptional height to grab that blue one? Careful, it’s a little heavy.”

Wrecker smirked as he easily reached up and pulled the fabric from its slot on the wall. “Don’t worry. Nothing is too heavy for me.” He easily adjusted the bolt onto his shoulder with one hand, a casual smile on his lips. “What other ones do I need to grab, sarad?”

Oh, so those muscles were for use and not just for show. “Sarad? What does that mean?” You moved down the wall and spotted another bolt you needed. Pointing to it, you watched as he easily strolled over and once more pulled it out with one hand and placed it on his shoulder. Your heart fluttered at how easily he threw his strength around.

“I’ll tell you next time we hang out. Give you something to look forward to.” He watched as your eyes went wide with excitement. If Crosshair was here he’d probably tell Wrecker that he was being smooth. But Wrecker just really wanted any reason to spend time with you again. He watched you bite your lip while a blush crept across your cheeks. Kriff you were cute. You pointed to another two bolts and he quickly pulled both of them. “Got anything heavier?”

“Let me see what I can find, strong man.” You moved around him and towards a different wall. Excited to see how much he really could hold.

-*-

An hour later the two of you returned to the top of the island. Wrecker easily carried two crates full of materials and supplies on his shoulders while you walked a few steps behind with a bag full of knitting needles, scissors, and other smaller supplies. Were you a few steps behind for any other reason? Of course not. Definitely not to enjoy the view of Wrecker carrying the crates. Nope, not at all. You definitely weren’t imagining him shirtless carrying the crates either, his muscles on full display and rippling while covered in sweat. Phew, you were starting to get thirsty.

Stopping in front of the large tree, you watched as he bent over and placed the crates down with ease. Damn, he looked good bending over too. Smiling, you walked next to him and placed the bag down on one of the crates. You placed your hand on his upper arm and squeezed gently. “Thanks for the help.”

Wrecker easily flexed his arm, making you giggle quietly. “No problem, Sarad. If you need help bringing them back down, let me know.”

“I will.” You heard your name called and looking over your shoulder towards the Archium, you realized Sue and Magda were staring straight at you with knowing smiles. “I should check on my group.” Wrecker nodded to you and you began to walk away. Stopping you turned back towards him. “If you ever get bored of the soldier's look, let me know. I’ll make you a new outfit.” His face lit up as you turned to walk away. Deciding to have a little more fun with him, you looked over your shoulder at him while pulling the clip out of your hair. Your locs fell free and with a mischievous smile, you made eye contact with him. “After all, I’m good at measuring.”

Tag list:

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#clone wars fic #the bad batch fic #clone wars #the bad batch #wrecker x you #wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker #wrecker tbb #bad batch wrecker #Spotify

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reddie-ao3feed · 17 days ago

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A Trip Gone South

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/wE5hj9u by Shuutingstar A two-week trip to New York City was plastered on a poster outside the Losers' classroom, the news almost bizzare since Derry never had exciting excursions like this, but after impulsively participating in the raffle to win the tickets, they were more than surprised to learn that they had, in fact, won. So after a bit of contemplating, they head to New York (with a man named Robert Gray) and await to see what the future holds. OR: I make the Losers work at a circus, give them a false sense of security, and then traumatise them!! Words: 5301, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Robert "Bob" Gray, Judith (IT), Original Characters Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough & Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough & Mike Hanlon & Ben Hanscom & Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon & Ben Hanscom & Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough & Georgie Denbrough Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Pennywise is Robert "Bob" Gray (IT), POV Alternating, Idk what i'm doing, Eventual Happy Ending, Derry (Stephen King) is Terrible, Teenage Losers Club (IT), Angst and Feels, probably?, Tags Contain Spoilers, this is gonna get real dark later on, Fluff and Angst, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, Canonical Character Death, it's Georgie's, How Do I Tag, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Eventual Found Family, no beta we die like Georgie in every AU I make because I can't let Bill be happy, Circus, Human Pennywise (IT), Creepy Pennywise (IT), Eventual Relationships, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/wE5hj9u

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #it 2019 #fic rec #reddie fic red #stephen king it

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jellisdraws · 1 year ago

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Retrospective - Chapter 1 (Destiny 2 Fanfic)

Enkidu materialized into the still quiet of the early morning. The small ghost in his black and gold shell hovered over the curled form of his guardian as the first fingers of dawn pushed their way across the cloud strewn sky of winter. He bobbed gently in the air, turning to peer again through the narrow window of Mira’s cramped and cluttered hideout within the ruins of the old Tower. His robotic eye blinked, watching the thin strip of sky above the flowing lights and skyscrapers of the Last City. That view had long been filled by the Traveller, a small slice of enigmatic divinity. It had hung there, the being that had breathed life into him as it died, so he could breathe life into her. Now there was just the foreboding gray of the winter clouds, nearly smothering the light of dawn, but not completely.

He returned back down to Mira, gently nestling into the cradle of her body where she curled, breathing deep and evenly in sleep. She looked much the same as the first day they met; her dark hair a touch longer, some new scars peeking from beneath the heavy coat she was sleeping under, but there was the same careworn face cast in dusky blue, a slight frown that even rest could not dispel.

They had spent nine years together, nine years of adventure turned to unending warfare, of existential threats encountered, opposed, defeated. Gods fell beneath her gun, but friends had fallen along the way too, lost opposing the darkness. The Witness. For all that guardians had the capacity to defy fate, they could not deny death. Mira had been dealing death out with an efficacy that appalled even Enkidu at times. She’d been killing since nearly the moment she had been standing reborn as a guardian of the light. There had been danger of course, threats to their safety that required violence to even allow Mira to survive her first days, let alone get back to the City. Thinking back on it as she shifted around him, something clicked against his shell. He didn't have to glance down to know she was sleeping with her sword tucked between her knees. It was a practice that went back to those early days.

He wished he couldn't count the number of nights they had spent hiding from Fallen and Hive trying to escape old Russia, he could practically fill a calendar with them. Back then she would sleep only when he asked her to, and only if he was present keeping watch. He had told her he was always with her- even when she couldn't see him. It was true: he could act as her comms and see and hear through her eyes and ears. But she liked being able to hold him, or have him bump into her; those little reminders she wasn't alone. Mira was quiet, he supposed it came with what made her a good hunter, but in the beginning she had been almost hollow, machine-like. Not that she was an Exo, she just had a sort of cold flatness to her that shook him from time to time. Given her stoicism in the early days, it had taken Enkidu too long to learn that something was wrong. It had taken him too long to realize she was in pain. Enkidu knew his guardian was hurting still . She had been hurting since the day he had awoken her. It was a wound he didn't know how to fix.

Day: 5

Chapter 1: We Two Are One

The fire snapped, a shower of sparks jumping into the air and Mira tensed, pulling her rifle close, half ready to dodge roll out of the bombed out section of a parking garage she was taking shelter in and begin running again. Her gaze was sharp and haunted as she peered into the darkness through the scope of her weapon, silent and as still as possible. The moment passed into a minute, and still she was peering, watching, looking, finger on the trigger.

Enkidu piped up from his place in her hood, “You can relax- I haven’t heard any Fallen comms chatter for days now, and the hive magic readings have dwindled to nearly nothing since this morning. You can rest.”

“Yeah.” she didn’t move, eyes trained through the scope.

“Mira,” Enkidu said, as gently as he could while remaining firm, “please rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

“I know…” she sat back heavily against the rust pitted metal of a broken down old van, the gun pulled across her chest tightly as she huddled down.

“Tell me about it again,” she said, her gaze lost somewhere in the dwindling flames, “Tell me about the Last City. The… Guardians, and their Tower.”

He was happy to do it, his small synthetic voice cutting away at the silence, telling her of the hope that lay ahead. He told her of the Traveler, a silent god that died in the wake of pushing back an all consuming darkness, and whom simultaneously chose to send the ghosts out to humanity with the vestiges of it's light, to kindle that hope that persisted. He told her of the vanguard. He told her of his many years searching for her. The fire burned down and she curled into the trunk space of the van, a tighter space to sleep in. It made her feel secure he supposed.

“Did you always know it would be me?” She said around a yawn.

“Yes and no,” Enkidu returned gently, “I didn’t know you would be you. But I knew that I would resonate with you. I always knew you’d be like no one else.”

“Mm.” He thought he could hear the smile in her voice.

“I searched for you for such a long time… I was worried. I thought… I thought I wouldn’t find you.”

“Mm”

“Mira?”

“Mmhm”

“I’m with you now.”

She groped blindly behind her, fishing the small angular ghost out of her hood as she leaned against the nearly weathered away seat backs, and promptly fell asleep with him tucked to her chest.

“Mira.”

“Mmph...”

She barely felt as though she’d slept before she was jolted awake by Enkidu’s voice. “Mira, wake up! Wake up right-”

An explosion rocked the garage, sending dust and rust sheeting down on her as she scrambled to wakefulness. Enkidu dematerialized, still speaking into her mind,

“Fallen raiding party,” he said, “Probably chasing you. There's not much out here for them to scavenge.” “Probably didn't appreciate the bullet I put into Karrhis’ skull.” she said as she pulled on her helmet, and drew her hood up and gathered her rifle. “I have mapped a possible exit, can you run?”

She nodded. Fallen chatter and scuttling steps were getting closer, fast.

“They're here, Go!” She exploded from her hiding place in the van to the sound of a shrapnel launcher turning the rusted heap of a vehicle into slag. She fired blindly back towards the source of the shots. Heard a gratifying howl as she pierced shields. She sprinted up the collapsed concrete to the top level of the garage, paused to gauge direction. “West, into the trees! Watch for the skiff!” Enkindu urged

She took off, arc bolts flying by her as the Dregs made the roof. She spun, squeezed the trigger twice, two bodies fell in an explosion of ether one after the other. Still others were coming, filing behind cover to take pot shots, she could feel the impacts sizzling in her shields, draining the energy cells. The edge of the rooftop loomed; beyond it, naught but the tops of the pine forest that had overtaken this town; cover, an escape. She lept, and poured solar light into her hands, focusing her fury into the hand-cannon, into bolts of pure concentrated star fire. She illuminated the early morning in a blaze of light, blasting off shot after shot as she spun to face her attackers mid air. They burst into columns of super heated ash, igniting and burning each other away. As the assault party burned into wayward dust, her solar light faded. As she began to fall, she concentrated on landing without breaking an ankle. It would take time until she could gather her light that strongly again, and she couldn't afford to be slowed by anything, least of all-

A glint through the trees. “NO!” yelled Enkidu The bolt from the wire rifle took her through the neck moments before her feet met the ground with bone shattering force. She was dead before her head impacted the ground, yards from where her body lay. But death couldn't stop a Guardian.

Enkidu materialized, and expanded, his shell emanating the restorative light of the Traveler. “I’m with you now,” he said again, “ I'm not letting you go.”

Day 3,321

“You’ve been awfully quiet this morning,”Mira said, glancing up at Enkidu over the dust mask she wore as she repainted her new set of armor. Again. “Something on your mind?” She asked, when he didn't answer right away.

She had taken the morning to tidy her living quarters, dismantling some old weapons and armor into usable components, and had reassembled some of her usual gear into new configurations, testing efficacy, chatting with him about the potential synergies of certain applications of her abilities and the modifications she was testing in her armor. “Not much,” he started, spinning his shell playfully to disguise his low mood. She cocked an eyebrow at him, watching him carefully.

“Just thinking,” he admitted, “ that you've changed.” “Mm?” She glanced at him and sat back, pulling the mask down around her neck and skewing her legs into a tight pretzel, holding her ankles as she looked up at him with faintly glowing golden eyes, “how so?”

Enkidu floated to eye level, and bobbled up and down, separating from his shell slightly- his version of a shrug, “I'm not sure I guess. I was considering it…You're warmer?” “Warmer?” The brow raised again, but her lips quirked too. The shoulders she’d drawn in around her ears relaxed. “I don't know!”

She laughed and gently poked him, “Well tell me when you figure it out, alright?”

“Of course,” He said, floating up as she started shaking paint cans again, eyeing the white and gold chest armor she’d been working on. There it was again, he noticed, as her smile fell and the mask returned to cover her nose and mouth. The tightness around her eyes, something she couldn't shake.

“That's right!” he said. “You figured it out that fast?”

“What- no. Actually, Han and Dusty are back in town,”Enkidu continued, “Ches contacted me. They want to see you.” “No way, really?” She perked up, “It's been ages! Once I finish this we should go find them.”

“You got it, I’ll let them know we’ll see them soon.” He settled into the little nest she had made him on a shelf nearby and watched as she put up her hair, a purposeful gleam in her eyes as she began to paint again.

* * *

“Yo!”

Most of the day had passed by the time Mira had finished reorganizing and crafting her new looks. Still, she chose her familiar red and black armor and cloak and grabbed the rifle that had scarcely left her hands since she’d pulled it from the Egregore aboard the Glykon.

The clouds above the wall had taken on an brilliant orange color, as the light of the setting sun painted them in fiery hue, and Mira sauntered up the stairs past the hanger and rounded the corner into the main plaza and transmat hub. Here, Guardians and ghosts hurried about on errands: interacting with frames, collecting packages from the postmaster or checking Eva’s stock. Rahool was lecturing a gaggle of New Lights on the intricacies of decryption, Banshee was fiddling with Telesto, again. Mira slid past it all like a shadow accented in crimson, head swiveling, until a familiar tinny voice pulled her gaze and she hustled through the crowd toward it. She burst from the throng and lept, laughing, into the arms of a massive Exo clad in highly worn green and orange armor. “Dusty! Holy shit man, I thought you beefed it a long time ago!” She said “I could say the same for you, bird brain,” he laughed, setting her down and tugging at the beak of her helmet’s faceplate, “Still sporting this old thing?”

“ You're the one who said ‘If it ain't broke…,’” her grin was audible through the mask.

A hand clapped her shoulder, and she turned to see the horned helm of Dullahan-12 looming over her, with Chester floating along behind the huge Titan. “Yo!” she said. “Yo,” he said before folding her into a tight hug.

“My… ribs” She gasped in jest but she wrapped her arms round him too and lifted him nearly off his feet.

“It's good to see you, Mira, Kidu,” Dullahan said as she set him down

“You too Han, and I see you back there Ches, You keeping these guys out of trouble?” Mira said, peering past Han’s pauldrons.

“Unsuccessfully, but I soldier on.” came the prim voice of Dullahan’s ghost.

“Keep at it, they may even listen one day.” She laughed, and returned to the two titans, “Well fuck guys, it's been a minute.” “It certainly has,” said Dusty, “Drinks? Rumor out in the wilds is Drifter set up a bar on the HELM?” “You aint seen it? Either of you?”

They shook their heads.

“Been a long time since we were back this way,” Dullahan said. “Then let's go, I’ll cover first round.” She said grabbing

“Aw you're not gonna treat us all night?” Dusty pouted. “I know how much you two can drink, absolutely not.” Mira said, bumping him with her shoulder, or rather bouncing off of his. “We can take my ship.” Han said

“Or mine!” said Dusty

“Dusty, If I never climb into that rust bucket you claim to be a ship again, it will still be too soon.” Han said, “we can take my ship.” “Don't insult the Interceptor like that! I've solved the fuel line problem mostly! It wont blow up again!... Probably.” he said defensively

Mira wheezed, “it’s really been too long.” Soon enough they were racing above the skyline in Dullahan's ship, taking in the view of the Last City as they ascended to orbit and shortly thereafter docked with the HELM. They soon found themselves around one end of the bar set up, chatting in the blue light of the aquarium dominating the chamber as Mira pointed out which fish she had caught to add to the collection. There was a gentle buzz of commotion here, Guardians, Awoken, Eliksni and Cabal all stationed on the HELM used this place to unwind, or access the portal to Titan — Though with Ahsa safe and in an extended recovery period, there had been little reason to dive into the methane seas other than for patrols or to study Oryx’s corpse.

“Sounds like a lot has been going on,” Dullahan said, adjusting the umbrella in his glass before sipping through the straw.

“It has been, it just doesn't stop. There's always some new fuckhead that's lived for eons beyond eons I need to put a bullet into! And they’re chipping away at us. I don't know. Things came… too close on Neomuna.” She scrubbed the back of her head and tipped her drink into her mouth. Letting the ice clink against her teeth as she drained a gin and tonic, she emancipated a small chip of ice to chew between her molars contemplatively, before sighing and returning her glass to the coaster on the bar, making sure she placed it precisely back on the ring of condensation left there already.

“ It feels like I used to have a better grasp of who our enemies were.” She continued.

“Alien. Monstrous. Not… people. Not like us. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we’ve found commonality with them, we need allies and it's important to know some enemies can become friends,” Dusty said, gaze drifting to where a small gaggle of Eliksni had dragged Crow through the door and were encouraging him to sit and relax for a moment - a nigh impossible task, “Some of them are even good friends! But I can't deny it makes the battle lines a whole lot messier.”

“Yeah. I mean, remember the days of delving into the Hellmouth? The Pit? I mean it was scary as shit then but it was exciting? And looking back at it, those days of exploring, of seeking new weapons and armor, even heading back to Europa to find where you both came from - that was the first time I really took joy in being a Guardian- and we were disobeying the Vanguard’s directives! I don't know… everything feels different now and the same all at once. And Im-” She caught herself.

“You’re…?”Han prompted

She shook her head, and turned to wave down the Frame tending the bar for a refill. Dusty raised a metallic brow at Han, who shrugged.

“It feels like we’re coming to the end…” She said quietly, more to her glass than either of her companions, “and I'm not sure if we’ll survive what the Witness has planned- but if we do… I’m not sure what I’ll be afterwards. On Neomuna I, well…” The words dried up.

The two of them hadn't talked about it; she didn't know if he knew, or if he would forgive her.

Sacrifice. Sacrifice was part of being a Guardian. Sacrifice meant accepting pain and loss so others did not have to. She had always been okay with that, until the sacrifice was no longer hers to make. She could have stopped the Witness from reaching the Veil, stopped it from breaching the Traveler, albeit temporarily. She would have slowed it down, held it back. Given the Coalition more time to mount a defense. And all she had had to do was kill Enkidu as the Witness piloted him towards the Veil.

The rifle had been in her hands before she knew it, her ghost in her sights. It would be simple to squeeze the trigger. So simple to end the life of her closest friend, her other half, her grace, her soul. The Witness dragged Enkidu higher and higher into the Veil, connected to the Traveler, and she- she couldn't shoot, couldn't speak, couldn't call him back to her.

It was Nimbus who dragged her ghost away, with the same dramatic flair they brought to life. And when he bobbed back into the air, safe and himself, Enkidu looked to her and the gun in her hands burned like sin. She’d looked away, unable to face him, and made the call to Zavala. They’d lost.

Mira didn't know what to say to her ghost. She’d felt him there, watching her quietly for weeks now. She knew he was hurting. She knew it was her fault. She had created a rift between them, and it was something she didn't know how to fix.

#destiny the game #destiny 2 #destiny oc #destiny guardians #oc #my writing #fanfic #Restrospective #awhellstothejoe #joe writes #scifi #messing with canon #destiny fanfiction #destiny 2 fanfiction #d2 #d2 fanfic

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netherzon · 1 year ago

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Chapter 1 of Bear Jail

Exactly what it sounds like. Kuma gets put in Polar Bear Jail.

(note, there are no Hetalia characters other than Kuma in this chapter, but there will be in the next one I promise!)

Rating: T for language

Content Warnings: discussions of animal abuse and the exotic pets black market.

It was around 2pm when their hotline went off.

“Hello, hello! You have reached the emergency Polar Bear B Gone hotline.” Riley snorts from her desk across the room.

It was an unconventional hotline. There were only 900 people in this town anyway, and most of them had interacted with their team before. It was probably fine.

“Caleb?”

Yup. “That’s me.”

“Aha, I thought it sounded like you. It’s me, Bob? You answered the phone two weeks ago when that other rascal got caught by the fire hall while we were celebrating my niece’s engagement party?”

“Uh huh?”

“They’ve broken up now, by the way. I heard her say you were pretty cute at the engagement party, should’ve seen the end coming really. Are you single by any chance?”

“You called because you saw a polar bear right?” Caleb quickly changes the subject, “There’s a fine if you called this hotline for non polar bear purposes.” He wasn't actually sure if there was a fine, but it felt like there should be.

It has the effect of getting Bob back on track anyway, “Yes! Right, I live in Zone 2, and there’s a bear sniffing around my shed.”

Caleb gestures towards Riley that she should start mobilizing their capture team, “Any identifiable traits? Can you see a tracking collar”

“No to both.”

“Adult or juvenile?”

“Looks like an adult to me.”

“Does it seem hungry?”

“Well, yes, but not the way I think you mean.”

Caleb frowns, “What does that mean?”

Bob clears his throat on the other end of the line, “Well, it’s just— it’s just sitting by the door to the shed. Like a dog. It looks like a healthy weight. It hasn’t tried to break in, but I think I also saw it trying to open the door with its mouth?? Like it was biting the door handle and trying to turn it. But other than that it hasn’t gotten very, uh, physical? But I think it can see me too, if that makes sense? It looks at me sometimes. Like it's waiting for me to open the door for it.” Bob’s voice gets lower with each word, like he’s afraid the bear will hear him,”It’s very creepy. Never seen a bear act that way in all my life. And I’ve lived in the Polar Bear Capital of the World for 50 odd years now, so that’s really saying something!”

Caleb gets stuck on the idea of the bear trying to open doors, especially in a way so obviously learned from humans. The goal of their work was to make cohabitation safer for humans and bears by minimizing interactions between them. By maintaining a healthy feeling of caution on both sides. Humans stay away from bears. Bears stay away from humans. Nobody gets into any trouble.

If this bear had already learned how to open doors though…. If it was so familiar with this already that it really didn’t bother just trying to knock the door down, something it could probably do easily if it's an adult.....

“Hello?

Caleb is knocked out of his thoughts by Bob’s staticy voice over the phone, “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. We’re on our way over, alright?”

“Alright”

~~~~~~~

The rest of the team are almost finished getting dressed when Caleb enters the garage.

Dereck looks over at him, everything he says underscored by the sound of his long, graying beard scratching the waterproof material of their jackets, “Details?”

Caleb grabs a sweater and starts listing:

“Zone 2,” dress warmly, bring cracker shells.

“Large, probably an adult,” pack regular dose tranq darts.

Dereck nods along with each point, “Way ahead of you.” He gestures for everyone to get in their trucks.

Caleb hesitates pulling on his gloves, and Dereck notices.

“Is there anything else, kid?” Dereck asks.

He considers mentioning the behavior Bob described, but, “Nah, nothing ‘bout the bear,” he raises his voice to be heard over the noise of multiple engines starting, “Just thought everyone should know it's Joey’s cousin again!”

He hears someone in the third truck groan loudly. The window starts rolling down, but Joey’s head is already poking out when it's only halfway, “Bobby?!”

Caleb only has to grin for Joey to go off again, “The bear’s sniffing around his shed too, ain’t it?!” Joey leans further out the window, “You know, he told me he was going ice fishing a few days ago. That moron left the fish guts in his shed again, I’d bet money on it!”

“Alright, that’s enough chit chat,” Dereck admonishes, “you can rip your cousin a new asshole after we’ve scared off the bear who wants to do it for you, Joey.”

He gives Caleb his own disappointed father look, before climbing into the first truck.

~~~~~~~

“Remind me which cousin this is, and do they live on Airport Lane or Airport Road?”

Caleb looks at Riley in the driver’s seat, leaning forward so the end of her braid doesn’t press uncomfortably into her back, “Airport Road, close to where it changes into Lake Road and Farnworth Road.”

“Got it,” Riley says. Her voice is low and smooth. He always prefers riding over with her.

On the way over he sends the message he always sends to his wife before every job like this: “

“You were acting strange in the garage,” Riley says, and Caleb flinches. It’s no use denying it. Riley is too perceptive, and now he’s stuck in a confined space with her.

“Bobby told me the bear was acting strange.”

“Strange how? Is it injured or something?” Riley asks, confused. An injured bear would be a completely different task for them. Caleb would’ve mentioned it to the team if that were the case.

“No, it seems…” he pauses, “I don’t know.”

Riley presses again, “Seems what?”

Caleb collects his thoughts, and then cautiously asks, “Hey, do you think it's possible polar bears are still going through the black market as pets?”

Riley snorts with derision this time, “Do I think its possible? Not only possible, I’d be surprised if they’re not. I know its hard for us to understand how anybody could do that, but I wouldn’t put anything past someone with enough money to get away with it.”

“Okay, so, what if somebody released that pet polar bear up here?”

Riley frowns outright. Her grip on the steering tightens, “You think it was a pet?”

“Bobby told me,” Caleb says cautiously, “that the bear tried to open a door the way a human would. By using the knob. That it wanted to get into his shed, but it didn’t just break down the door, it tried to turn the knob.”

Riley blows a lock of graying hair out of her eyes as she considers this. After a moment, her shoulders slump, and she speaks with a new sadness, “It must’ve seen humans do that a lot.”

Caleb sighs, sinking with the weight of it, “Yeah.”

~~~~~~~

When they arrive, the bear is still sitting patiently by the door of the shed. The only sign that it's moved is the circle of snow packed down around the shed’s perimeter.

He sees Derek and the rest of the crew speaking to Bobby through the door of his house about 7 meters away. They are all facing the bear, but they shoot disturbed looks at Riley and Caleb when their truck pulls up.

“What’s going on?” Riley asks, taking in their tense stances.

“Nothing!” Joey whisper-shouts, wide eyes still fixed on the polar bear, “Nothing is going on! It just sits there!”

Derek shakes his head in warning and begins shifting down the porch stairs towards them. “What’s up with this bear, Caleb?” he asks. His tone is deadly serious.

He decides to keep it short. “We think it didn’t come here from the wild. That it used to be someone’s pet.”

Riley nods. Derek’s eyes widen with understanding, before he curses. They all eye the bear. The Bear stares back at them. Now that the team is aware of it, all its other behaviors fall into place. It’s not starving even in the off season because somebody’s been feeding it. It doesn’t break the door down because food has always been given to it. It stares at them expectantly now because it’s always been humans giving it that food.

It doesn’t fundamentally change the mission, but it does change a lot about the mechanics of it. They still don’t know where it came from, if somebody dropped it off here or if it escaped from somewhere. It might be easier to convince it to get into one of their transport tubes, but it could also be harder. People could convince themselves they could turn a bear into a tame house pet, but it was always a roll of the dice. Plus, they weren’t trained on how to interact with the bears this way. They’re entire goal was to make sure the bears didn’t get familiar with humans or associate them with food. It seemed like they’d already lost that battle here.

“Alright,” Derek starts, ready now to give them directions, “we probably won’t be able to scare it away from town like we’d usually do. If it was a pet it will probably just come back to where the people are anyway, and if it doesn’t know how to hunt on its own it won’t survive out there either. Our best bet is to get it in a transport tube, bring it back to the center for further assessment, and if it can’t live in the wild we’ll just have to find a zoo or sanctuary or something that can take him in. Understood? This has turned into a capture mission.”

The team give a chorus of “Understood!” In response. While they are apprehensive, it’s all they really can do. The bear can’t stay here.

Their usual techniques are ineffective though. Nothing they do shakes it. The bear watches them bang pots and pans and set off firecrackers with total passivity. They turn on the engines of their car and rev them as loud as they can with no response. They can’t use tranq rounds cause they wouldn’t be able to bring it to the transport tube on their own. They try for 20 minutes, edging closer and closer. The bear just refuses to move.

Out of sheer desperation, Caleb does possibly the stupidest thing he’s ever done.

He decides to talk to it.

With shaking hands, he calls out, “Hey!” It’s a small test. Just wanting to see how the bear reacts.

His team shoot him deadly looks, warning him not to do what he’s about to do.

The bear though, the bear responds by looking directly at him. It doesn’t charge him, or growl, or display any other signs of aggression. Caleb forges on.

“Are ya hungry?” He asks. To all of their shock the bear almost looks like it nods. Its attention is focused even more on Caleb now.

“Do you wanna eat?” His voice shakes with fear. Not me, he wants to add. He knows if the bear decides that’s what it was hungry for, though, there’d be nothing he could do about it.

This time, the bear heaves itself up on all fours. The rest of his team clutch their tranq guns nervously as they all watch the bear walk towards Caleb. Caleb also watches nervously, but he doesn’t raise his own gun. Scenes from How to Train Your Dragon flash through his mind, and he comes to the irrational conclusion that he also needs to lay down his weapons to gain the beast’s trust.

The bear doesn’t seem to notice or care either way. It walks right up to Caleb, leans in. Caleb can smell it’s bad breath as the bear sniffs him once, twice, and then obediently sits back down in front of him. Caleb stares into its deep, dark eyes —something he’s pretty sure you’re not supposed to do with bears— and imagines he can hear its thoughts. Do you have food for me, human?

“Y-yes,” Caleb whimpers, ”I have food. Food for you.”

The bear huffs once. The burst ruffles Caleb’s hair. Show me, he swears he can hear it speaking.

“Okay,” on shaky legs Caleb backs away, loath to turn his back on the bear, “I’ll show you where you can get some food.”

He walks backwards, like that would give him a fighting chance if the bear lunged. The size of polar bears up close has never stopped being impressive to him, but he’s never been so close to one that’s awake. They try to make it clear to the bears that there’s nothing of interest to them when it comes to humans. There’s nothing to be curious about, nothing to gain from coming towards human towns other than a month spent in a very, very boring room. That’s why people are allowed to visit their center, but they never show anyone any actual bears, and employees only ever interact closely with the bears that are injured or sick.

His work has never been without danger, but he’s never tempted it so much. The Bear follows him closely. His coworkers follow behind them from a great distance. He can see they are alarmed by how close the Bear is, but they won’t say anything. He knows they won’t want to risk startling or provoking it, in case it does decide to attack him.

He leads it to the closest transport tube. They bait all of them with seal meat. Once the bait is pulled on, the other door to the tube falls down. Trapped bear, ready to be taken in. Simple.

The bear comes up beside him and regards the tube. He gestures towards it encouragingly. The bear shakes its head, but complies. Miraculously, it walks by Caleb without incident, so close that for a second he can’t see anything but it’s white-yellow fur. It walks easily into the tube, grabs the seal meat, and yanks. The door at the other end falls down. The Bear walks back to look at them through the bars. Now what? it seems to ask.

Caleb’s knees buckle underneath him. The rest of the team runs up to him, yelling and crying in equal measure. He’s the youngest of all of them, so they’ve always babied him a little. Right now, it’s just comforting. He can tell they’re angry, but when Riley pulls him to his feet they surround him in a hug. He can hear her admonishing him with motherly concern, “Don’t ever do that as again, understand me? Don’t ever do that again!”

He eyes the Bear over Joey’s shoulder. It tilts its head at them. I wasn’t going to eat you. I can tell you wouldn’t taste good anyway.

Derek recovers more quickly than the rest of them. He sniffles, wipes a few tears of relief off his cheeks, before turning to the Bear. He keeps one hand firmly on Caleb’s shoulder. His mouth is set in a grim line.

“We’ll take it back to the center now, and I’ll call an old friend of mine from when I worked at the zoo and see what he thinks about this.”

~~~~~~~

More Notes!

This fic was inspired by the the Polar Bear Holding Facility in Churchill, Manitoba, otherwise known as "the Polar Bear Capital of the World". The holding facility was established in 1982 as an alternative to what they'd been doing before if a bear got too close to town, which was just killing it. It is colloquially called "polar bear jail". They'll try to scare bears out of town first, but bears that walk into town repeatedly or begin breaking into buildings get put in "polar bear jail", where they are given water, but no food to avoid creating an association between humans and food. After some time, or after the Bay freezes over again, the bears are re-released outside of town.

You can read more about it on Atlas Obscura here:

#hetalia #hetalia fanfiction #even if its just a canon bear and some OCs rn #did you know polar bears don't really hibernate either?#no like other bears at least

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princesspuresarahk · 11 months ago

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Bob’s Burger Fanfic Belcher's On The Run!

The Belcher siblings are on a really big adventure with new changes Tina gets a new look with a possible new love, Gene is rising with music entertainment and Louise is ready to make it big with finding big money, but this summer will more crazier that they realized cause this time they'er on their own when they believe they're on the run after Mr.Fischoeder's home was caught in unexpected fire at a event that nearly killed the landlord putting him the hospital for a while and the kids 'think' they were the cause of it and need to find proof they are innocent.

Chapter 1: Summer change is here! Part 1

It's been 2 years at the Belcher family home and things couldn't be any better and sweeter Bob and Linda still working together at the restaurant their relationship still full of strong love and support Gene and Louise we're now 13 and 11 Gene was his still carefree friendly self still writing and playing his musical unique (sometimes strange) songs that had really gotten good and improved, his family really enjoys with Gene even writing special songs for each of them that really touched the whole family's hearts. Louise is still mischievous as ever enjoying pranks and pulling a few skins that worked out pretty well with results of one of them being winning $150 at a new mechanical bull ride at Wonder Wharf owned by a woman named Billie Mae who moved into the neighborhood hood and have recently became a really good friend with the Belchers (even new best friends with Linda) she was tall proud woman with wild bodacious hair tough as nails and smart as a whip who grew to really like Bob's burgers while visiting for lunch after hearing about how good his food was in fact she loved it so much she gave them a surprise $100 tip and amazing 5 out of 5 star review that nearly made Bob cry in amazement how it was a sweet kind place with awesome customer service food was really good and it was big family friendly a great place to go eat when you want a nice big juicy burger. Not also that Billie talked to Bob (with the encouragement from Linda and the kids) to go into a side business with her whole made barbecue sauce shoppe and add her famous sauces to his burgers of the day price 50/50 Bob was reluctant but decided to give it a try and much to a surprise everyone seem to really like it when he first put on the new burger of the day "The dark midnight holy spice BBQ brisket burger " customers and tourist came all over when they started hearing about the new barbecue burger series at the restaurant with the Belcher family making more money than they ever realizing this was the most special day they ever had Bob still thought he was dreaming.

It was nearing now the last day of school for Summer Gene and Louis had just gotten back as they opened the door to the restaurant as Linda "there are my sweet babies are you guys excited for your last day of school!" She cheered giving her two youngest each a kiss on the cheek.

Always the mama’s boy, Gene was happy to hug Linda back, but Louise squirmed away from the kiss. “Yeah, I’m excited it’s the last day! It means I can have a summer of not going to school and getting sent to Mr. Frond all the time,” she responded. Noticing someone missing Linda look around "hey where's your sister where's my Tina beanie?" Tina haven't gone through the door yet well Gene and Louise looked at each other, then toward their mom "Tina wanted to walk by herself mom, she's still in that long summer slump ever since Pesto Jr. Moved to attend that performing arts school where his mom lives," Louis explained as she and Gene sat by the table Linda surprised went by the window to look at the distance seeing a loan figure hiding in a big gray hoodie "oh oh my poor Tina can't believe that big ugly funky cloud came back thought it went away after Christmas still can't believe she still sad about Jimmy Jr. leaving.?" Linda expressed worryingly did this was the biggest slump the now 16 Tina had been in as she watched her oldest child solely walk one step at a time hidden in her hoodie. Last Summer Tina was hoping her and Jimmy Jr would become summer sweethearts again and on the day that she was going to ask him he was thrilled to tell her the news of him given the opportunity to go to a performing arts school to which Tina was happy for but later on it turned out that Jimmy would have to move in with his mom in order to attend and would have to leave by the end of June which made Tina devastated but she knew she couldn't hold Jimmy Jr. back in this big opportunity. “Gene, Louise, you guys go on and catch up with Tina, make sure she’s okay,” Bob addressed his younger kids.

“Got it.” Louise nodded, and she and Gene left the restaurant so they could catch up with their sister. “Hey, T! Are you okay?”

For a few minutes there was nothing just silence the occasional sound of soft breathing until they heard their sister give a big soft sigh "sigh..yeah.. I'm..ok ..sigh" she spoke softly continuing to slowly walk to the restaurant "oh boy"Louise mumbled she wished Tina could just get out of the slump. Suddenly she got a little idea "hey Gene got any songs for Tina to get out of a slump we got to put a smile on this girl!" Giving her brother a wink “You know I do!” Gene nodded and excitedly began loudly singing a song he’d written. Gene set up a tune with his new harmonica as he came up with lyrics to a song that he knows his sister likes "🎶 oh Tina the coolest sister I know, she dances to a steady beat stand up to a girl who's ever mean she's a strong sensual woman relaxing write into her stories and zombies and if she anything in fantasy she will be the zombie Queen! Fighting and riding Jericho her mighty steed that's her imaginary horse! Oh Tina the coolest sister I know Tina please smile for us come on Tina just for us!" Gene ended with a high note as he tried to catch his breath after coming up with the quick song.

Tina finally smiled a little, but Louise could tell her sister wasn’t completely happy. "Hey Gene I think we need to pick it up a little." Understanding remaining Gene set the tune again as both he now Louise sang the song again to get Tina to smile in arms and swing side to side.

Singing it louder and louder until a small smile fully appeared on Tina's lips showing how much her siblings care "That's the Tina we know,” Louise smirked as they finally made their way to the restaurant heading inside with Linda happy to see a little cheer up smile on her daughter "hey there's my tina teeny beanie how's my sweet girl." Coming over to give Tina a hug and a kiss on the cheek like she did with Gene and Louise a while ago

"Hi, Mom," Tina said quietly all smile still on her face seeing her mom that she was happy to see her daughter cheered up a bit

“That’s my girl.” Linda hugged her. “Are you ready for school?”

Tina smiled more "yeah Mom we're going to have a little party for the last day tomorrow." She explained and silently it looks like it was going to be fun even without Jimmy Jr. Suddenly the door could be heard opening in a familiar voice with a deep southern accent appeared "Howdy doo shugs! How'll y'all doin today!" Came wild and bodacious Billie Mae wild big red all over the place with her honey caramel eyes wearing a suede summer jack with a deep blue top tight jeans and cowboy biker boots that stomped loud as she entered the restaurant loud with pride.

Linda brightly saw their new friend enter "Hhhhhheeeyyyy Biillllie! How you doing girl it's nice to see you today!"

“No fair! I wanna be a cowgirl!” Gene exclaimed.

Billie smiled "You can be any cow folk ya want little man!" She gave a wild grin to Gene before giving his hair a toss and placing her straw cowboy hat atop Gene's head making the teen smile.

She then greeted the rest "Hey Louise how's my favorite little punk still causing mischief?" Giving Louise a fist pound as the youngest Belcher gave a wild grin like her "It's nice seeing you Billie." Bob greeted from the kitchen "Thanks and I'll be having your burgers of the day the El cheddar jalapeno shudder with extra spice in it to go." She ordered Gene slightly winced at the mention of jalapenos remembering the time being Beefsquatch him and his in competition against one another and his dad tricked him into eating one of his burgers that had a bunch of spicy jalapenos on it!

Morning on the Last Day of School

“I guess we need to get to school so we’re not late,” Tina finally sighed.

She still wore her hoodie hiding herself in it as her siblings made their way downstairs

Linda noticed and it made her ever concerned as she watched her babies off to school she needed someone to talk to pick up her she looked at her contacts and pressed the first number she saw after a few rings there was a "Hello?" Taking a breath "Hey Billie it's Linda hey hon I need some help with Tina."

“Yeah? How can I help you?”

"she's been down in the dumps for a long time recently ever since her old summer sweetheart boyfriend moved away last summer it's been rough on her so I was wondering if you could help me come up with an idea to help her get this lump out of her once and for all I don't know maybe help me plan a girls day for her?" Remembering how she took Tina out on one when she learned Jimmy Jr was going out with a girl on Valentine's Day

"hmmm you know what shug I think I can come along to help and I think I have an idea that can help with Sweet-T!" she declared making Linda smile happy and excited " Oh thank you Billie that be wonderful so what's the plan?" She whispered the last part as Billie explained their plan when Linda went to pick up the kids “I’ll tell you what, I think we should take Tina for a good spa day. I know a great spa that owes me a favor 'cause I go there so much!” Billie replied.

That brought a smile to Linda's face "Oh Billie that sounds wonderful I'll get the kids ready once they get off from school just tell me the directions and we'll meet you there hon ok bye bye now!" Linda hung up the phone excited this was just what Tina needed!

Meanwhile, later on at school, it was nearing the half-day school Tina's class was having a small pizza party with a movie called The Lone Ranger it's a pretty good movie Tina as a forever deep horse lover thought it was pretty good, especially with the mystical white horse silver the Ranger rides. She smiled as the main fight/chase began as she munched on the last of her pepperoni pizza silently looking at the side as Tammy and Jocelyn quietly talked on their phones (their teacher saying it was ok since it was the last day of school as long as they are quiet during the movie) typing away at their screens. she then turned to her other side where Zeke was kicking back against his desk enjoying the movie as he made excited remarks from scenes in his deep southern accent.

Zeke had taken it a bit hard when Jimmy left but he seemed to doing well after a while he always helped support his best friend and from what she heard/said Jimmy was doing excellent in his new dance school and even got to do a few big auditions.

Soon the last day of class was over as Tina made her way out Louis and Gene showed up just in time "Hey Tina my teacher had a milk and donuts party and she let me have two extras for you and Louise," Gene declared happily handing Louise a chocolate glaze with sprinklers and giving Tina a strawberry pink one also with sprinkles as Gene chowed down on his maple bacon glazed.

“Thank you, Gene.” The last day of school hadn’t been too bad, so Tina was noticeably in a better mood as she accepted her donut.

Taking a small bite she enjoyed the sweet taste of strawberries and cream of the pastry as she and her siblings walked out of the school just in time to see their Mom with Billie in her big black 2004 pickup truck both smiling excitedly "Hey kids ya really to go for a day at the salon and shopping?" Linda cheered all pumped up for fun and to help her Teeny Tina!

“Yeah, Mom, that sounds fun.” Tina nodded and opened the door and got into the backseat.

"Yahoo a day at the salon I can get a pedicure my aching musical feet need it!" Gene commented following Tina in while Louise thought it was nice cuz Billie would be paying for it all as her treat which meant free stuff!

Yeah, it’ll be fun. Thank you, Billie.”

It wasn't they arrived at the salon across from them was one of the new arcades so if Louise and Gene got bored they could go over there to play Billie even gave them $100 bucks each (yup she's that loaded y'all) while Tina is getting her makeover "all right Tina baby cakes you're ready for a life-changing new you?" Billie asked giving a wild grin making their way inside wear a hair stylist was there just in time waiting for them "Hello you must be Tina the name's Diane and I'll be giving you the most relaxing day of your life honey," she explained as Tina slowly got on the chair "all right sweetie first let's remove this hoodie and see what we got here," shyly Tina removed the hood and well caused everyone to gasps "holy moly!" Gasped Diana "Honey what got you into this jungle?"

credit to the amazing https://burgerspeople.tumblr.com/ for being part of this Fic! : )

Stay tuned for Part 2 as Tina reacts to her Cinderella transformation that slowly brings her out of her slump.

#bobs burgers #bobs burgers fanfic

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lore-gore · 1 year ago

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Little Nightmares: Endless Nightmares Au

Chapter One v. 2 (Draft)

A Dream Within a Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow:

You are not wrong who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand--

How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep--while I weep!

O God! can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

Edgar Allan Poe

There were so many missing posters hung up that you couldn't even see the fence.

They covered the chain link, overlapping, blanketing it in melancholy.

A breeze whistled past like an eerie tune, causing them to flutter.

MISSING

Name: Low [REDACTED]

Date of Disappearance: [Last Year]

Gender: Male

Age: 10

Description: Black. Average height with a thin build. Dark skin. Black afro styled in wicks. Last seen wearing a tan long-sleeve shirt, brown shorts, and a red and blue bracelet around his right ankle.

MISSING

Name: Mono [REDACTED]

Date of Disappearance: [This Year]

Gender: Male

Age: 10

Description: White. Short with a thin build. Pale skin. Short brown hair with bangs. Last seen wearing a khaki trench coat, a brownish-gray shirt and brownish-gray pants.

MISSING

Name: Six [REDACTED]

Date of Disappearance: [This Year]

Gender: Female

Age: 9

Description: Asian. Short with a thin build. A bit underweight. Pale skin. Black hair styled in a bob with bangs. Last seen wearing a yellow raincoat with a pointed hood.

The night she disappeared, Six dreamed of eyes.

Hundreds of giant eyes, opening one by one before fixing their gaze upon her.

And as she dreamt, she sank into the mattress.

She sank and sank, and then:

She was gone.

Version one of this draft with a different set of missing posters can be found here:

Info about the au here:

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ao3feed-johnnylawrence · 3 months ago

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Movie and Show Oneshots Pt. One

by ArmyStay4Life Series of Mishaps, Misunderstandings, And More in these oneshots Words: 4322, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Movie And Show Oneshots Fandoms: Scream (Movies), Stranger Things (TV 2016), 구미호뎐 | Tale of the Nine Tailed (TV), 지금 우리 학교는 | All of Us Are Dead (TV), The Glory (TV 2022), Karate Kid (Movies), Cobra Kai (TV), Grimm (TV), The Lost Boys (Movies), One Piece (Live Action TV 2023), IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M, Multi Relationships: Billy Loomis/Randy Meeks, Chad Meeks-Martin/Vince Schneider, Danny Brackett/Ethan Landry, Richie Kirsch/Vince Schneider, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Jason Carver/Eddie Munson, Will Byers/Steve Harrington, Lee Rang/Lee Yeon (Tale of the Nine Tailed), Koo Shinjoo/Lee Rang, Koo Shinjoo/Lee Yeon, Imoogi/Lee Yeon (Tale of the Nine Tailed), Lee Cheong San/Yoon Gwi Nam, Lee Cheong San/Park Chang Hoon, Kim Chul Soo/Yoon Gwi Nam, Kim Chul Soo/Park Chang Hoon, Roronoa Zoro/Sanji, Dracule Mihawk/Sanji, Helmeppo/Roronoa Zoro, Ha Doyeong/Jeon Jaejun, Ha Doyeong/Joo Yeojeong, Joo Yeojeong/Son Myeongo, Ha Doyeong/Son Myeongo, Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence, Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver, Bobby Brown/Daniel LaRusso, Daniel LaRusso/Chozen Toguchi, Miguel Diaz/Johnny Lawrence, Miguel Diaz/Robby Keene, Robby Keene/Daniel LaRusso, Johnny Lawrence/Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz, Nick Burkhardt/Monroe, Nick Burkhardt/Sean Renard, Nick Burkhardt/Charlie Riken, Nick Burkhardt/Barry Rabe, David/Sam Emerson, Sam Emerson/Marko, Dwayne/Sam Emerson, Sam Emerson/Paul, Monkey D. Luffy/Sanji, Ben Hanscom/Patrick Hockstetter, Robert "Bob" Gray/Ben Hanscom, Bill Denbrough/Ben Hanscom, Bill Denbrough/Patrick Hockstetter Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Threesome - M/M/M, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Sexual Content, Holidays, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Out of Character, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Inspired by Movies and Shows, Other Additional Tags In Chapters, Crossover via https://ift.tt/AHVtru8

#LawRusso #Johnny Lawrence #Daniel LaRusso #Cobra Kai

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roa-historics · 4 months ago

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Note: Hello, this is The Roa Saga! Each chapter will be posted in this format to this account, hopefully with more grace with each post. Each chapter explores to another perspective and if you'd like to read the description for the story please visit our Wattpad!

My nose fills with brine and salt before my eyes have a chance to feel the pale light of the morning moon. The boat I’ve reluctantly laid my head within for the past 37 nights croaks and groans with the gentle might of the ocean’s waves. It’s wooden smell mingles with the brine, mixing into mildew and a vague sense of anxiety of what’s to come. The mixture of dust and mold brings me to endless days and nights spent wallowing, hoping for a chance of adventure like this. If only I had imagined it closer to reality. More blood and whatnot.

I wipe at my face before opening my eyes, feeling the hay from the loosely defined bed stick to my arms and subsequently my face. I feel my muscles groan in protest as I slowly begin to ruin the mound of hay I made for myself the night before with my stretching. I sigh as I feel the ocean breeze stream in from the poorly made, warped, porthole that doesn’t close completely. Mist sprays into the hayloft of a bedroom periodically as I slowly sit up, plucking fibers and hay from my hair.

I hear the sounds of horses whinnying in protest to the ships movement, a thin stable wall being the only thing separating us from the live merchandise and shit they produce. As I sniff the air again I can’t help but notice a lack of powerful odor from said production. Scared that I’ve too used to it and possibly smell like horse shit, I hurriedly pull the front of my coat forward to sniff my clothes before a dry chuckle cuts through the groaning of the ship and complaints of horses. “You’re better at magic than I am, child. You think noble mages would wallow in stench if they can help it?”

That chiding tone, as if he’d already explained it before. I huff before yanking my bag from under the pile of hay and producing a brilliant green, carved jade comb. A souvenir from my home, where we had met. Where I was entrusted to him. “He” sits on a throne of hay, both his arms and legs locked and closed off to the world as his left foot bobs slowly. Were he not sleeping in pitch black armor, he would give the air of an old man having a nap. His armor gleams despite the pitch, each of its joints sporting an almost corny point. His head tilts backwards as he cracks one pure white, blank eye. His skin is the same color as mine but not the same hue.

His a mix of gray and purple while mine is a much brighter, almost a pink-shade of violet. Our ears and hair are our most similar traits, with ears double the height and sharpness of a humans and stark white hair that goes down to the both of our hips. It’s not unbelievable that I could be related to him. Enoch has told me that these features have been forcefully bred into our people as both a sign of pride to nobility and as a sign of dominance to those they rule over. A message, that those who would dissent by simply being born differently would be taken care of. Everything I’ve learned in the past 2 months has been from this man, Enoch Kyne. Though I’m his ward he treats me as if I were born to his family over 100 years ago, not necessarily in a familial sense but more of a fiscal one. An investment that must pay off, that must be worth the cost he is paying.

“You’d think you’d have cast it last night while we were trying to sleep then.” My voice comes off shakier than I want it too as I close my eyes, trying to seem busy with combing. In all honesty, he terrifies me. Perhaps that’s what he wants, what with the gothic armor and resting scowl.

His face hardens, like I’ve hit a soft spot before he returns to his resting scowl. “Magic… Is slow to return evidently.” The last part of his sentence is inquisitive almost, like he’s learning himself. “Even simpler spells are taxing… This one I cast about 2 hours ago, ordinarily a ward as simple as this could persist as long as I had the stamina for it.” His gloved hands carefully rub at a small glyph of chalk he drew on his side of the stable before the smell of horses and feces suddenly assault my senses.

Even as my nose begins to burn and my eyes water, I try my best to look at the smudged glyph before he completely rubs it away. He catches my line of sight and clicks his tongue before saying “My magic is not the same as yours. You won’t learn from observing me.”

Again with the chiding tone, only this now this is something he’s said many times. I groan as I finish combing my hair, replacing the comb in my hand with several bobby pins. “How am I supposed to learn anything, Eno-”

He rudely interjects before I’m finished with his name. “Your Highness Kyne, in front of others.”

I groan again as I begin to slowly make two braids from my hair, in an annoyingly meticulous manner that I’ve been told is traditional. He stands up, imposing over me entirely and nearly bumping his head onto the short ceiling above him.

I can’t help but flinch as he takes a step towards me, his blank eyes unreadable as usual. He sighs softly before making a swirling motion with his finger, meaning for me to spin. “Allow me.”

He kneels down in front of my “bed”, matching my height as I slowly cross my legs under me and turn around. His hands are careful to not touch me as he gently pulls out the braids that were evidently not to his liking before continuing.

“Here, out in the world… You are not my ward… You are my attendant. I have lived a life that is dangerous to any who are close to me. I have killed many who have people seeking their revenge. I’ve campaigned wars into several countries that have set some of them onto irreparable paths of ruin. Do you understand what I’m saying, Belladonna?”

I try to look back at him as he finishes the first braid only for him to grab the top of my head and spins it to look forward again. “Was… What you did that bad? That they’d wanna hurt me, just to hurt you?…”

He doesn’t answer me for a moment, probably surprised I’m actually probing. “Yes, child… Irredeemably so…”

There’s silence that hangs in the air, the distant sounds of the ocean slowly beginning to be replaced by the sounds of many awakening ship hands marching across many different floors above us. As he curls the two braids into a circular bun on my head I can feel him hesitate to say something. I glance back to him again, catching a peak of deep thought covering his face before his hand clamps around the top of my skull, spinning it back once again.

“A teacher… Wouldn’t be unwise. Staying in one place how-” He slowly begins to say as I shoot up to my knees, about to shout in excitement before his hands clamp onto my shoulders and sit me back down.

“Hold on… A teacher, for your kind of talents are not only rare but they are… Fickle. I don’t care for Warlocks very much but, there’s not much that I can teach you. I wouldn’t even call myself a Wizard at this point anymore.”

He places the last pin before standing as I whip around to look at his face. He seems reluctant, more annoyed than anything but at what part, I’m not sure. I slowly and carefully word my next sentence, hopeful but not naively begging. “I promise I will be respectful and follow the rules exactly… So long as you promise to find me a teacher…”

Enoch sighs as he crosses his arms “I already said I would, your behavior shouldn’t be conditional on what I’ve already guaranteed. You’ll just use it as an excuse.” I crack a smile as I stand up to match him, his height towering over me by at least a foot.

I can’t help myself as I suddenly hug him as tightly as I can, causing him to flinch. “I promise, Enoch… I’ll listen…”

He sighs before gently putting his hand awkwardly onto my head. “This is the last one. Make it count. If anyone see’s any sort of legitimate bond between us the-”

I can’t help but groan again as I pull away “Yeah, yeah, yeah, danger around every corner, assassins in the bath, the whole shebang.” I shove open the door to the stable stall as I loop my bag through my belt, fastening it to my hip as I walk into the stable hallway.

As I reach the end of the stable room I can hear tens of men stomping around in the hallway outside and above me. After a delay I hear the heavy stomps and thumps of a six and a half foot man beginning to catch up to me. I open the door to several men shouting orders to one another, each of them hustling to perform their own duties while some stop to stare for just a hair too long at me. I can’t help but look back at some but not for the same reason as theirs. All my life I’ve been surrounded by elves and humans, and now finally I get to see the actual people of this world. One thing that took me time to get used to is that even though they’re from the same species, there are categories called ethnicities that us moon elves have seemingly bred away.

Before I had was entrusted to Enoch, I had only known the faces and existence of about 15 people. While I wasn’t necessarily treated heinously, I was not real to them. From my first memory, I was a doll to them. I remember feeling special from how they treated me, their reverence was the only thing I had known. Other than their expectations. They would dress me in fine robes and jewelry, kneeling to an altar and prison where I was kept. It was a wooden barred cage with sigils, paper chains, and incense burning around me at all times. They did not worship me however. They worshiped the one who speaks through me. I’m told elves don’t need to sleep because we’re descended from the fae, but each night I feel the draw of exhaustion. I don’t know if it’s every night and I simply can’t remember it, but my dreams are not simply thoughts made up in the mind.

Occasionally I see insights about my own life from other perspectives, granting me the occasional leg up in my day to day. However most often it feels like my dreams are meant to teach me something vague through a series of flashing sequences and foggy emotions. Their worship, as I grew, slowly began to grow into contempt as my visions began to focus elsewhere in the world. Slowly their questions turned into nagging, then into harassment, and finally into violence. In the last vision I received, two months ago, I saw the blade of an ornate green scythe culling wheat in a field. The person wielding it was a young boy, no older than 11, with a mop of matted chestnut hair and nothing but rags alongside his scythe. As he culled the wheat, both ends of the cut plant began to whither away leaving no harvest behind.

When he extended his hand outward to me, I hesitated. I hadn’t realized I was present to him in the field, let alone able to interact with him. It felt like he was welcoming me to my death and for a moment, I was relieved. Freedom from my cage, freedom from worship, freedom to live was just a hand away. When I took his hand, I felt assured that it was not my death I was being welcomed to. As the vision faded, I felt the sharp sting of sticks and grass beneath my feet before lurching to a stop. I couldn’t tell if I was still dreaming at first as I looked at the moon lit forest I found myself standing it. I had never seen anywhere with my own eyes but the cage and the altar I was atop of, but I could tell I was far away.

Along with my consciousness, pain flooded my body. It stemmed from my blistered feet, aching legs, and cut hands. There were small splotches of dried blood covering my hands but I couldn’t tell if it were mine from moving through the forest or someone else’s. After stopping for a moment in the woods, I suddenly felt my worries return to me.

Where was I headed?

What’s out here?

Who’s going to help me if I need something?

Am I going to freeze to death out here?

Before any of my questions could be answered, I heard the sound of thundering hooves marching in my direction. I froze as I began to hear them yell for me, trying to coax me back towards the cage. As I saw lantern light peaking through the trees I felt a full body snap as a voice growled within my skull, echoing against it’s confines.

It purred and rattled in a damaged but well spoken tone. “Choose Belladonna. Freedom… or death?” My heart seized as I broke into a cold sweat.

They wouldn’t kill me… Right?

If I stayed they would certainly need me… Right?

Even if they didn’t literally kill me… Would I be this me forever or would they kill her to worship what I can become?

I hadn’t realized I was already running as I asked myself these questions. I can feel from my muscles that I had already been running for hours but it didn’t matter to me. If I couldn’t run for another hour it would mean I would lose the only chance I’ve ever been given. I could feel my feet stepping on objects I’ve never known, stumbling and tearing my way through the forest as my breath turned to ice in my chest. I heaved and spit, running as faster than I’ve ever moved in my life but not faster than a grown herd of horses.

After seeing me, I heard more men than I could count begin to scream my location or for me to come back while others didn’t bother hiding their contempt. They snarled at me almost like beasts, cursing not breaking my limbs before.

Before long they had broken into the path in front of me, bringing my inexperienced running skills to an awkward tumble. I had never been so tired, laying in the leaves and grass of the forest as horses circled around me. My breath came out as fog as I coughed and sputtered, the men jeering in success as their victory became assured. I heard some call for a feast for me to bless, while others began to speak of punishments. I slowly pulled myself to my knees as they began to dismount their horses. I could remember seeing one of the human men who had brought me food most often beginning to approach, his face being older and meaner than I remember. I wondered how many years he had watched me suffer from his worship. If he truly ever cared for anything other than his own ascension through this terrible cults ranks. I could almost feel the answers licking off of his brain as they began to grab me.

As I focused, his thoughts began to mingle with mine. I could feel both his excitement and resentment towards my existence. Dissatisfaction over never receiving a blessing or vision from me. Contempt for his service being unrewarded. It sickened me. I felt hatred for the first time in my life consume my entire body, almost shattering my chest with how hard my heart hammered.

“You…” I rasped out as they began to bind my hands and feet together.

He seemed pleasantly shocked from his thoughts, as his mind screamed in delight seeing my misfortune. “Yes, child?” He sickeningly crooned as he bent down towards me.

“I… dreamt of… You…” I manage to wheeze out as they roughly constrain my forearms to my chest. His eyebrows shoot up in delight as he takes a knee in front of me.

His mind races with excitement as he moves closer to me, eager to hear of his fate. “What happened in your dream, blessed one?…” With his head so close it felt as if I were in his mind, his thoughts almost becoming mine. I delve through them, scouring for anything that will save me before I see something in his subconscious. The glint of a green blade resting in the treeline behind me that he took no conscious note of.

I try to pull my expression into a grin but I can feel the edges of my mouth twitch with fear. “Your death… Was that of an unwanted babe… Purposeless… And terrified…”

His face falls as he slowly stands back up. I can feel his mind reeling, unsure whether or not to believe me or strike me as the other men begin to jeer his terrible fortune. I can feel thoughts from each of them slowly wafting off as if they were steaming and the mist were their emotions. My mind tingles in the direction of their thoughts, almost as if someone is trying to touch my head out of my line of sight.

They were simply animals of desire and greed.

As I watch him open his mouth to say something, there was a flash of a shining greed scythe blade moving like scissors to paper moving through his left hip to his right shoulder. The two halves of his body suddenly collapse onto my restrained form, showering me in what was once my jailer and pinning me to the floor with his entire weight. His eyes shook, scanning all of my face as blood poured from his mouth onto me. His blood was acrid in my mouth, choking me as if I were his killer. Confusion and terror filled the both of us as I tried to claw my way out from underneath him. Before I could even take a breathe I could hear the sounds of screaming and swords being drawn. As I painstakingly crawled out from underneath the human man I could feel the thoughts of different final moments flooding to me, their fears and prayers falling onto deaf ears.

I could feel reaping of each dying breathe as I finally crawl out, the forest slowly beginning to swell with silence once again. As I finally looked up I saw the bodies of my captors lying on the ground, separated into several major pieces with a lone cloaked figure pulling the green scythe I saw in my vision from the chest of an elven man. Despite this being my first brush with true violence and death, I felt relieved to be alive. I felt no qualms for these heretics who sought my blessing. While I caught my breath, he seemed to study me from under his cloak.

We stared in silence for a moment before his young, monotone voice cut through the forest’s ambiance. “Belladonna, I presume?” His voice carried the tone of a man who could not be bothered to have actually remembered my name and more as if he were reading it off to a customer.

I slowly nodded, still terrified that this man from my vision could still be my demise. He nods before slowly pulling his hood down, revealing the prophesied mop of unkempt chestnut hair in addition to shining green eyes. He wore tattered green robes underneath his cloak and gave a dry smile while resting his scythe on his shoulder.

“My name is Talis. There’s a man named Enoch 2 more hours in the direction you were heading on a fairly large merchant vessel. He’s expecting you in the same way I was expecting you and the same way you were expecting me.”

I shook my head as he elaborated “I… I don’t really understand…” He sighed before walking over to me, extending his hand down to me.

“Understanding and following advice that will save your life are fundamentally two different things.” I shakily stood up as he began to wave his hand over me. The blood from the man began to quickly dry and flake away from my clothes and skin as Talis’ hand emanated a dull yellow glow.

“Walk southeast for 2 hours. You will meet Enoch Kyne there, a man who will guide you to where you are meant to be.” His voice is gentle but impatient as he magically washes away the blood from me.

“I’m sure you have questions, but the first thing you must learn in the outside world is that there is never a proper time to answer them. The ones that truly matter at least.” As he lets go of my hand, I feel a wave of anxiety flood me, one that he notices. “You will not be harmed on your journey to the coast. The plants will keep you on the path on my request but my job is not to be here and guide you. That is Enoch’s. Mine is to exact wrath on these fools. Yours is to survive and grow.”

He slowly moves around me, towards the direction I had come from before I shakily ask “Grow?… Who sent you?… Who told you about me?…”

He smiles as he begins to walk away. “If they haven’t given you a name yet then it’s probably because you haven’t asked.”

Before I can ask what he means exactly by that, I watch him tap his scythe against a tree, a brief glow of dark green emanating from the bark as he rests his hand onto it. His entire form is pulled into the tree, almost violently, like swirling water, into the tree’s bark itself and I am left alone in the middle of the woods.

I couldn’t help but collapse to my knees once again onto the ground, finally having a moment to fully catch my breathe as I stare into the night sky. My head began to tingle with pain as I stare up at the moon, unsure if the pain is from falling and hitting my head, or from the dying thoughts of animals that still swirl around my skull. The moon is a full pearl in the sky, glistening down on me with it’s chorus of stars screaming one thing for me. You are free. As I looked back down to the scene of viscera surrounding me, I can’t help but wonder what the value of their lives were and what value my life holds now. I still think I’m scared to truly know the answer.

As my mind returns to the merchant vessel, I can hear Enoch walking behind me as I make my way to the left side of the boat’s railing, or “port side” as Enoch says. I can’t help but shiver from both the cold harbor air and the overwhelming sense of anxiety flooding me as Enoch and I look at the Kullen city skyline for the first time. Enoch had told me it was a sprawling metropolis, filled with inventors and scientists that dedicate their entire lives to improving the city itself.

I see the morning sun turn the sky purple as it begins to rise over the skyline littered with buildings of daunting stature called “sky scrapers”. However as I gaze over the city I can’t help but feel lied to as none of the buildings even come close to touching the clouds. The most magnificent of the buildings is a glass pyramid with 4 rectangular towers at each of it’s corners, each of the towers have a host of wires that seem to connect to all sorts of destinations throughout the entire city.

I’m snapped from my staring as Enoch clears his throat “You remember everything I told you about Kullen?” I turn to him as I lean over the railing, harbor mist spraying up onto my uncovered hands as I nod. "Repeat it." He commands, his face as always is unreadable but I can tell it makes him feel better to know loose ends are covered.

I sigh before looking back over the city, beginning to recite my lines. "Kullen is an urban City-State who controls a significant, if not the majority, of trade power for the entire Chorosian Alliance." He nods in agreeance before waving his hand for me to continue. "While a majority of City-States on the continent of Choros abide by the laws of the Chorosian Alliance, Kullen maintains a position that not all City-States on the continent need to be a part of the Alliance. Instead relations must be maintained as if they were foreign forces, diplomacy specifically above all but they have engaged in 2 separate wars."

Enoch shakes his head at my correct answer. "We're going to be speaking to citizens here, best to speak in an approving tone of the history."

I turn to him again, confused as I see he's also staring at the city now. "I don't understand, were they not in 2 wars?"

He folds his arms in front of him as he furrows his brow. "Not all cultures take pride in conflict or strength over another. Where our people hail from, Morol, war is like breathing. Violence like the beating of a heart. Hatred has taken root as our culture over the splendor of our people's beauty or our traditions. For Kullen, complacency has become their culture. Instead of a sterling warrior class, they produce a class of labourers that perform near miraculous works such as architecture and medical advances. Instead of killing to make their life they give their services to each other, such as cooking, handiwork, or even just being something like an attendant."

I roll my eyes as I look back to the city, nonplussed by his answer. "I know how jobs work, Your Highness Kyne~" I tease, surprisingly earning a dry smile from his near deadpan expression.

"I'm sure, but this is an entirely different society. These people know nothing of truly caring for themselves. Were you to take a citizen from Soriana, the continent Morol is a part of-"

"Yes, you've shown me the map." I interject as his smile quickly returns to neutrality.

He clears his throat before continuing, his gaze almost moving past the city's skyline. "If you were to take a citizen from both societies, who do you think would survive fighting a small monster?"

I furrow my brow, confused once again as I stand up from my lean on the railing. I shove my dewed and frigid hands into my coat pockets as I tilt my head up at him. "W...What kind of monster?" I hesitantly ask, unsure if the question was rhetorical or a test.

His smile graces our presence again before he turns to match my gaze with blank, stark white eyes. "Any sort. A sea creature, a dragon, a skeleton. Any sort you can imagine."

I think for a moment as I try to rub my hands warm by bringing the pockets of my coat together. "Well... I haven't met-"

He interjects before I can finish. "I haven't either. Think of the characteristics of what you know and make an educated guess. A wrong answer is better than confusion. A wrong answer brings you assurance even if it's false."

I pull my hands from my pockets and begin to breathe onto them as I ponder my answer, suddenly feeling like I'm being lectured. Again. "Well... I guess a Kullenite."

My answer surprises him as his smile turns to a slight grin. "Elaborate."

Suddenly the spotlight is back onto me as I rack my brain for reasoning for my guess. "Uh... The... What did you call them? The things!" I point my left hand outward, cupping it with my other hand as I extend two fingers out.

He chuckles as he takes a turn of leaning onto the railing, the water rotten wood giving a protesting creak in response. "Many names for those things. Guns, firearms, thundersticks. We have them in Soriana as well, just not as... how do you say... Industrialized? Mass produced? In Soriana there's a province named Horseshoe Gumption-"

I can't help but giggle at the name as he glances back to me, still smiling as he continues. "Ridiculous name, I know, but they chose it and wear it with a foolhardy amount of pride. Nonetheless the people there are hardened by the harsh environment of the province, wastelands of deserts and mountains forcing them to adapt. Gnomes and dwarves came together to make a weapon against the monsters beneath the sand, synthesizing barrels of black powder from the environment to feed the wurms that would chase carvans."

He talks less like it's a story he's heard and more like an era he was a part of. Theres a level of pride and fascination that I don't think he knows about when he speaks of Sorianans, people he feels kinship to.

"Over time, blackpowder and the contraptions that use them became so necessary that guns would be handed from parent to child for multiple generations. Now those very guns double as nearly official identification, the legacy of certain firearms exceeding that of the names of families. Does that change your answer, child?"

I don't answer immediately, considering the different factors as I shove my hands back into my pocket. "But you asked about a Morolan citizen, not a... Horseshoe... Gumptioner?..."

He gives an all too rare laugh as he stands fully, almost scaring me with the sudden burst of emotion. "A Triumphant. Yes, you're right. But considering what I've said, do you think that guns are that large of an advantage to an inexperienced citizen over a warrior that may have access to the same advantage?"

His question puzzles me for a moment. "No... I guess not..." I reluctantly answer. Being wrong doesn't feel as assuring as he said it would.

"Right. Experience trumps equipment. A man may have a mythical weapon but it means nothing if he fails to act." He seems satisfied that I understand but my questions feel unanswered.

"Then how are they thriving? If they can't survive danger, don't they just die out?" I ask as his smile falters a little, a hint of surprise coming over him like he hadn't expected me to think that deeply into it.

"Citizens do not determine survival. It is those who lead them that do. Mistakes of the leader cause people to perish far too easily. A good leader ensures that his citizen's weakness is never realized, even by themselves. The citizens are sheltered from it, given food and distractions to hold their fear of being in danger away. In Kullen, it's creature comforts. Things such as not having to worry about starvation so long as your job is secure, infrastructure strong enough to withstand famines or droughts, things that make the world feel less dangerous." He pauses for a moment as he seems to reflect.

I feel as if this is the most he's told me before without me directly asking, so I stare up at him in silent expectation like a child listening to a story. Not that it's very far off. "In Morol, the distraction is pride. The privilege to do what you like because you are powerful; because you are a child of the moon. You're told from a young age in Morol that moon elves have not only earned their spot at the top of any society but any that would think otherwise are dissenters. People who would go against The Matriarchy's holy word." He spits out the last part with venom on his breath.

His expression returns to a scowl, his rage palpable in the air as he grips the railing tightly. "One such dissenter is yours truly. Despite my crimes in the name of my mother and her fellow narcissists, I eventually stopped lying to myself about our righteousness. After assassins failed, she realized I had too much power to be killed, quietly at least. Even still she made sure I knew her power." His hand slowly comes to rest over the left side of his chest, a pained expression coming over his face as he rubs his chestplate slowly.

I gently put my hand onto his shoulder, both suprised with the amount of emotion he's showing and unsure if I'm able to bring him any amount of comfort over a betrayal I couldn't fathom. "Is that why its hard for you to use magic?..." I ask softly, glancing around to make sure none can hear.

He solemnly nods as he puts his hand over mine. I watch an almost embarrassed smirk slowly beginning to creep over his face as he stares off into the skyline. "If I tell you how it happened, will you be an adult about it?"

Immediately confused but ridiculously curious I extend my pinky out to him, like an adult. "I swear, I will be a grown woman about this story. Whatever that entails." Trying my best to maintain a straight expression as his smirk turns into a smile again as he continues without sealing our pinky promise.

"There's good reason I warn you about baths. I've had 9 assassination attempts on my life, in the bathroom alone. The 9th one was the most successful." I turn back toward the coast, trying to surpress a rising smile as I turn slightly away and he continues.

"I was in the bath when 5 men stormed the door. I made short work of them but they each had blades that glowed hot like forged steel, with a bright green hue instead of orange or red. It only took a single stab to my collar for them to have done their job. I've since learned that it's called a 'Mage Lock'. A magical brand that drains both your life force and any mana you create." My smile falls as I turn to look back at him. His head is turned away from mine in what I can only assume is shame.

"From my research, and any other word I've received... I am the longest surviving person with a Mage Lock." My eyes widen as I internalize what he means.

"So... You're going to die?..." My voice is softer than I thought it would be. I find myself scared not just for myself, but for my newfound protector. That suddenly this might be the longest conversation I'll have with him. My thoughts are interrupted by his loudest laugh yet, his eyes closing as his head tilts back and allows the laugh to wash over him.

I can't help but huff and give him a shove that hardly moves his torso. "That's a valid question! Stop being an ass!"

His laughter trails off as he wipes his eye offhandedly but his smile remains. "Apologies, child. I didn't mean to startle you. As of right now I'm stable. Before the lock I was a capable mage with a wellspring of power. I'm not sure if it's my power from before or if I'm simply staving it off myself but I know that such a thing will not kill me, nor will it impede my path."

His smile is serious, filled with determination and without any sort of dishonesty. He truly believes he will beat what none have before. I can't help but feel jealous of his conviction. He's a man who has committed untold atrocities yet still he has the will to not only change but still live by the consequences of his actions to repent for them. He is a good man now, one laden with shames and regrets that have made him as virtuous as he is now.

I nod to myself as I look away from him and turn to the bay water we churn through. "Where do I fit into your path, Your Highness Kyne?" He makes a sour expression hearing me naturally address him how he requested me to.

Returning to neutrality, Enoch matches my gaze on the water below us. He starts reluctantly, like even speaking of his plans brings him unrest. "Well... My current plan... Is to find allies. People who are intelligent, useful, and most importantly, some level of honest."

I smile as I ingest the nicest compliments he's given me since we've began travelling together. He seems to think for another second, carefully considering his words as he continues. "My first idea... Is Jules Hardwinter. He holds The Chair of Artifice on The Kullen City Council, which is effectively top dog. We're arriving just in time for the end of a week long celebration of Kullen's founding. Entire city has been in full festivities for the past week, I figure the perfect time to approach him about important business is at a private gala he's hol-"

I gasp as I grab onto his armor's pauldron, pulling him ever so slightly back and forth "We're going to a gala?! What do you mean?! Why didn't you tell me?! What am I gonna we-"

He sighs as he gently pries my hands off of his armor. "Exactly because I didn't wanna hear about it for 2 entire months. Now, we already have retainers waiting to meet us in the city. They'll take us to buy clothes and explore the city for the day, where we'll have about 8 hours until the gala to stretch our legs and get something proper to eat. Maybe even a nice bed to relax in for a spell.

He sighs longingly as he stares out into the water, clearly fantasizing about a proper bed to rest his giant stature in. I can't help but squeel in excitement as I grab the railing, using it to hop up and down as I imagine the extravagance of the event.

"I've only ever heard of galas and ballroom dances in stories! Do you think they'll have an orchestra? Oh! What about animals? I've heard that people bring exotic pets to these sorts of events! I wonder what kind of store we'll head to!..." I pause for a moment before slowly looking back to him. "Wait... What do you mean the retainers are meeting us there? I thought people like that... you know... retain."

He nods slowly before holding up three fingers. "Three reasons. Number one, my retainers are constantly accosted seeing as how I travel to very dangerous areas. One of the few special privileges I can afford is to have my retainers teleported to my destination while I make my errands the old fashioned way." He puts down his index finger, leaving his ring and middle finger up.

"Number two, they annoy me. While I'm traveling I need to be alert, not coddled and relaxed." He puts down his ring finger, leaving only his middle finger and illiciting a snort from me. "Number three, my mother hates me. I've never known a retainer to keep my secrets. Near everything I speak of to them is reported to her or a cronie beneath her."

I tilt my head as he lowers his final finger. “Is… That where I come in?” He snaps his fingers and points at me afterward, the sting of steel gauntlets ringing out for a moment.

He continues to point to me as we slowly begin to approach the lengthy docks and piers that stretch out from the city harbor. He nods as he turns to me, his smile completely gone now. “Remember. To everyone you are my attendant, including the retainers. They know me to be casual with servants so don’t let them inhibit your actions, but don’t betray your hand to the enemy. Your status as my ‘chosen attendant’ supersedes theirs.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I realize I suddenly have to begin lying as soon as we reach the docks. “I kind of feel like this is a lot of information you could’ve told me, at any point before this exact moment really.” I nervously spill as I shake my hands out.

He gives me a side eye as he looks me up and down. “Have you had any distressing visions lately?”

I look up at the morning sky for a moment as I think before answering. “None of my dreams have been vivid or really stuck with me after waking up since I was entrusted to you.”

Enoch smiles before giving me a pat on the back. “Then you’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

Before I can say anything he walks around me, the sound of the anchor chain being released and rattling through all of the crews ears. I sigh as I look at his back, trying to shake my anxiety away by flapping my hands.

I take a deep breath before whispering to myself. “My job is to survive and grow.” Even if the answer may be wrong, having a purpose assures me.

As Enoch joins the quickly forming line to leave the ship I begin to walk over. I stand next to him before looking up at him. He gives a small mouth twitch I think could’ve been another smile before holding his fist out to me. I bump his fist with my own as I smile, the fear I had felt for him before slowly dissolving into comfort as the boat slowly pulls into the dock.

#writing #first story #this story was a ttrpg campaign #no ai used #hate ai #fantasy #steampunk #adventure #visceral #tw g0re #tw cussing

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sadboi-in-a-sweater · 6 months ago

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Sadboi's Incredibly Strange Multifandom Adventure - Chapter 7: The Plot Thickens, Like Blood in the Gravel Pits

The next world the group visited was the one of "Team Fortress 2". An absurd, yet still grounded, world that mainly focused on the seemingly never-ending war between Redmond Mann -- leader of RED team -- and Blutarch Mann -- leader of BLU team -- over the gravel pits; the pawns of their game being a group of nine mercenaries -- Scout, Heavy, Engineer, Pyro, Medic, Spy, Sniper, Soldier, and Demoman -- on each side. There were other characters on the sidelines, like Gray Mann, Miss Pauling, Saxton Hale, and the wizard Merasmus. Sadboi knew that traversing this world would be a difficult one, a contrast to their previously comfortable outing.

As the group entered 2Fort, Sadboi guided them behind some cover -- just to be safe from any stray gunfire or explosions. Luckily, they found themselves on the other side of the fence of the ongoing warzone.

"Woah, it's just like in the game," Sponge Bob whispered, his eyes wide as he took in the towering structures and the distant sounds of chaotic battle. "But where are the players?"

The French Narrator chuckled. "In this world, my dear Sponge, you are the player. The war between RED and BLU is not a game, but a way of life for these mercenaries."

Sadboi nodded, her vibesense already picking up the intense emotions of the fighters. "We need to be careful. This place is… intense."

They made their way through the maze of corridors and fortifications, avoiding the line of fire. The French Narrator, ever the charming diplomat, suggested they seek an audience with one of the team leaders to understand the situation better.

The group found their way to the RED team's side of the field. Sadboi, being quite the ingenious one -- and not wanting to get shot -- used her color-shifting to hide all her blue colors with red ones instead. Of the two teams, surprisingly Sadboi found herself drawn to RED, perhaps because they tend to be the more iconic ones in the media revolving around the game.

They approached the RED base, where they encountered the Engineer, who was busy building a new sentry gun. The French Narrator stepped forward, his suave accent carrying over the din of the battle. "Excuse me, kind sir," he called out, "Could you direct us to Redmond Mann?"

The Engineer looked up from his welding, his goggles reflecting their forms. "The boss? He's in the main building, but I wouldn't recommend bothering him. He's got his hands full with strategy and all that."

"We're not just anyone," Sadboi said, her voice firm. "We're here to help. We've got skills that could turn the tide of this war."

The Engineer raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Well, in that case, you'd better come with me. He's always looking for an edge."

They followed the Engineer through the base, dodging bullets and rockets that flew overhead. The chaos was overwhelming, but the camaraderie between the mercenaries was palpable, despite the constant danger. When they reached the main building, the Engineer opened the door with a flourish, revealing Redmond Mann, his monocle glinting in the harsh light.

"Boss, I found some folks who say they can help us," the Engineer announced.

Mann looked them over, his expression unreadable. "Very well. What can you do?"

Sadboi stepped forward, her vibesense tingling with the intensity of his determination. "I can feel emotions, and I can tell you where the enemy is and what they're planning."

The French Narrator added, "And we have a knack for problem-solving and a bit of charm to boot."

Mann leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin. "Interesting. You know, we could use some fresh perspectives around here. Welcome to Team RED."

The mercenaries were skeptical at first, but Sadboi's vibesense proved invaluable. She could sense the Spy's treachery before anyone else, his usual tricks not working. She proved to be quite the spy-checker, perhaps even better than Pyro's method of using his flamethrower.

Their first mission was to infiltrate the BLU base and retrieve some intel on their next big play. The French Narrator's wit and suave demeanor helped them sneak past the BLU Spy, while Sponge Bob and Patrick created distractions that only their quirky antics could manage.

The BLU base was a mirror image of their own, filled with the same chaotic energy, yet with a cooler color palette. Sadboi felt a pang of empathy for the mercenaries on the other side, knowing they were just as caught up in the endless battle. But she pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

They found themselves in a room with documents scattered everywhere, a clear sign of hasty preparation. The French Narrator quickly located the intel they needed, but it was the picture of Gray Mann on the wall that caught Sadboi's eye. His vibes were… off, a mix of anger and desperation that seemed to pulse in time with her own tumultuous feelings.

As they were about to leave, the alarm blared, their cover blown. The group sprinted back to the RED base, the sound of BLU's footsteps echoing behind them. The French Narrator threw a smoke bomb, creating a brief respite, but they knew it wouldn't be enough.

Sadboi's eyes went neon pink as she activated her Meta Knight mode. The ground rumbled with her determination as she took the lead, her vibesense guiding them through the maze of corridors. The BLU team was gaining on them, but she wasn't going to let them catch up.

They burst through the doors of the RED base, the Medic rushing to patch them up. "Good work, but we can't let them know what we know," he said, slapping a bandage on Sponge Bob's bruised forehead. "The Spy's probably already looking for a way to get his hands on that intel."

Sadboi nodded, her mind racing with the possibilities. "We need to act fast."

The French Narrator leaned in, his voice a calm in the storm. "Let us formulate a plan. We must be strategic in our approach. After all, we are the heroes of this narrative, yes?"

The group huddled together, the heat of their bodies creating a warm bubble of friendship amidst the cold steel of the battleground. They pored over the intel, their heads bobbing in unison as they brainstormed a way to outsmart their foes.

Their plan was simple yet effective. They would set a trap, using their newfound knowledge to predict BLU's next move. The Gems offered their elemental powers, the French Narrator his tactical mind, and Sponge Bob and Patrick their… unique talents.

As the BLU team approached the RED base, the group sprang into action. The Spy, so confident in his stealth, walked right into the trap. Sadboi's vibesense led her to the exact spot where he would appear, and she tackled him with a ferocity that surprised everyone, including herself.

The battle was intense, a flurry of fists, guns, and explosions. The French Narrator's soothing voice was a beacon of calm, keeping them all focused on the task at hand. The Gems' elemental powers proved to be quite the game-changer, turning the tide in their favor.

In the end, they managed to push the BLU team back, securing the RED base and their newfound friendship. The mercenaries cheered, and for a moment, the endless war felt like it could actually end.

Sadboi looked around at her companions, her heart swelling with pride. Despite her fears and doubts, she had found a place where she belonged, a place where she could make a difference. The French Narrator patted her on the back. "You did well, my dear. You truly are a hero of the multiverse."

The feeling of acceptance and belonging washed over her like a warm wave. Maybe she could call this place home, at least for a little while. But she knew the journey was far from over. There were still more worlds to save, more friends to make.

And as the sun set on the gravel pits, casting long shadows over the battlefield, the group sat in the RED base, sharing a victory feast. The Engineer had cooked up a storm, and even the stoic Soldier couldnâ€™t resist cracking a smile at the sight of Sponge Bob and Patrick devouring the food.

As they ate, the vibes grew quiet, and the French Narrator leaned in, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Sadboi, my dear, what brings you to this place? What is your ultimate quest?"

Sadboi took a deep breath, her cubehead tinting a soft shade of blue. "I don't know," she admitted. "I've been running for so long, I've forgotten what it's like to have a destination. But now, with all of you… I feel like I can face whatever comes next."

The group exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. They knew the weight of her words, the burden she carried. Yet here she was, a beacon of hope in a world of endless conflict.

Pearl spoke up, her voice gentle. "Well, then let us be your map, your compass, your guiding stars. Together, we'll find your place in the multiverse."

The promise in the air was palpable. The French Narrator raised his cup of tea in a toast. "To new friends, new adventures, and a world saved," he said with a smile.

As the mercenaries of Team RED sang and laughed around them, Sadboi felt a warmth spread through her. For the first time in her life, she felt like she truly had a family. And as they finished their meal, the French Narrator turned to her.

"My dear Sadboi, the multiverse is vast, but fear not. We shall traverse it together, and in doing so, perhaps we will find not only what you seek, but also what we never knew we needed."

With a nod, Sadboi agreed. Her past was still a heavy burden, but the future looked a little brighter, with friends like these at her side. And as they all turned in for the night, the quiet hum of the base a lullaby, she whispered a promise to herself. "I'll find my way home. And maybe, just maybe, I'll save some more worlds along the way."

The next day dawned with the promise of more battles to come. But as they stepped out into the early morning light, Sadboi felt something shift within her. The fear that had once held her back was now a distant memory, replaced by a fierce determination to protect those she cared about.

Their next mission was to uncover the true motives behind Gray Mann's involvement in the war. They ventured into the heart of the BLU base, where the vibes grew darker, more complex. The air was thick with anger and desperation, a stark contrast to the lightness they had felt in the RED base.

Sadboi's eyes searched the faces of the BLU team, trying to understand their pain. The French Narrator whispered in her ear, "Remember, we fight not for the thrill, but for the peace we wish to bring."

The battle was fiercer this time, the stakes higher. But with her newfound strength, Sadboi was able to navigate the emotional minefield with grace. The BLU Spy, usually a silent killer, was caught off guard by her empathy, and they managed to disarm him without a fight.

In the control room, they found Gray Mann, his eyes glowing with a madness that sent chills down their spines. "You dare to interfere in my plans?" he snarled.

Sadboi stepped forward, her vibesense pulsing. "We're here to stop you," she said firmly. "To bring peace to this world."

Gray Mann laughed, a sound like shattering glass. "You think you can end this war?" He waved a hand dismissively. "This conflict is as old as time itself!"

The French Narrator stepped up beside Sadboi, his voice calm yet firm. "Perhaps it is time for a new chapter, Monsieur Mann."

The room grew tense as the two leaders faced off, their friends standing by in silent support. The air was charged with anticipation, the very fabric of the world seeming to hold its breath. Then, without warning, the floor began to tremble.

A roar echoed through the base, and the walls cracked. The BLU mercenaries and the group from Bikini Bottom looked around in horror as a monstrous creature burst through the barriers. It was the Lich King, the same one they had faced in the Frozen Ocean.

"No… not again," Sadboi whispered, her heart racing.

"Looks like we have a bigger problem," Patrick observed, his voice shaking slightly.

The Lich King's icy gaze fell upon them, and he spoke with a chilling certainty. "I shall consume all before me, until all worlds are one in the cold embrace of death!"

Gray Mann sneered. "Ah, the perfect distraction. Take them out, and I shall rule unchallenged!"

The French Narrator rolled his eyes. "C'est ridicule. We do not fight for you!"

With a snarl, the Lich King turned his attention to Gray Mann. "I have no need for your petty squabbles. You shall fall as all others have!"

The battle was fiercer than any they had faced before. The Lich King's power was immense, his control over ice and the undead a formidable force. Sadboi's vibesense was in overdrive, the emotions of fear and anger from both sides of the conflict threatening to overwhelm her.

But amidst the chaos, something unexpected happened. The RED and BLU mercenaries, realizing the true threat, set aside their differences and joined forces. The Spy nodded to Sadboi, a rare moment of camaraderie passing between them.

Together, they fought, each playing to their strengths. The Gems' powers combined with Sadboi's vibesense and the sheer tenacity of the mercenaries. The Spy and Sniper took out the Lich King's minions with deadly precision, while Sponge Bob and Patrick kept the creature off balance with their bizarre tactics.

The French Narrator directed the battle from the sidelines, his strategic mind working overtime. "Now, Sadboi! Use your power!"

With a deep breath, Sadboi focused her vibesense, reaching out to the very core of the Lich King's being. She found the flicker of fear that lay buried beneath his rage and doubt. It was faint, but it was there.

Drawing on that fear, she shouted, "You are not the end! You will not win!"

The Lich King stumbled, his icy grip on the world faltering. With a final burst of power, Sadboi shattered the ice that surrounded him, revealing the tortured soul beneath.

The creature screamed, the sound a mix of anger and despair. But as the last of the ice fell away, he grew smaller, weaker. The room grew still, and the Lich King knelt before them, his power fading.

"What have you done?" he whispered, his eyes now human, filled with terror.

Sadboi looked at him, pity in her gaze. "We've given you a chance to find peace."

The French Narrator stepped forward, placing a hand on the Lich King's shoulder. "The choice is yours. Will you continue this destructive path, or will you help us rebuild?"

The Lich King's eyes searched their faces, seeing the hope and determination that burned within them. With a trembling nod, he stood, his form shifting back to that of a man.

"I will help," he said, his voice hoarse. "But we must move quickly. The infection still spreads."

The group looked at each other, understanding the gravity of the situation. They had faced countless battles, but this was the first time they had a chance to bring true peace to a world.

Sadboi turned to her new friends, her heart swelling with hope. "We can do this," she said, her voice steady. "We've faced worse before."

The French Narrator nodded, a hint of excitement in his voice. "Indeed. And with our combined forces, we shall be unstoppable."

The merging of the two teams was a sight to behold. The RED and BLU mercenaries worked side by side, their rivalry forgotten in the face of a greater enemy. The Gems, too, were in their element, their powers resonating with the very fabric of the world they sought to save.

Sadboi felt a strange kinship with the Lich King, whose name was revealed to be Simon. His tragic tale of power and loss mirrored her own in some ways. They had both been outcasts, searching for a place to belong, for a way to make things right.

"We must find the source of the infection," Pearl said, her gaze intense. "It's the only way to stop this for good."

"Agreed," said Simon, his voice a whisper of his former power. "But it won't be easy. It's been festering for a long time."

The group set off into the frozen wasteland, each step a testament to their newfound unity. The French Narrator kept a close eye on the map, guiding them through the treacherous terrain. The journey was fraught with danger, but the camaraderie between them grew stronger with every obstacle they overcame.

As they approached the heart of the infection, the air grew thick with despair. The very ground beneath their feet seemed to weep with the pain of a world on the brink. But Sadboi and her friends pushed forward, their resolve unshaken.

The source of the infection was a monstrous tree, its branches twisted with the very essence of darkness. It loomed over them, a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of their worlds. The tree's vibes were a cacophony of fear and anger, a siren's call to destruction.

Sadboi took a deep breath and focused her vibesense. "We need to get inside," she said. "That's where the core is."

The Engineer nodded. "Leave that to me," he said, unpacking his toolbox. In no time, he had constructed a makeshift bridge over the chasm surrounding the tree's base.

One by one, they crossed, their hearts racing with anticipation and dread. The inside of the tree was a twisted labyrinth of thorns and despair, each turn more disorienting than the last.

The French Narrator's voice grew more urgent as they approached the core. "The vibes here… they're unnatural!"

The room ahead of them was bathed in an eerie glow, the air heavy with malevolence. They could feel the infection's power, a pulsing heart of darkness that threatened to consume them all.

Sadboi stepped forward, her eyes glowing a fierce neon pink. "We can do this," she said, her voice steady. "For every world we've ever known, and every friend we've ever made."

The group nodded, their eyes meeting in a silent pact. They would not let the infection win. They would fight for light, for hope, for the very essence of what made them heroes.

Together, they charged into the chamber, their combined strength a beacon in the dark. The battle was intense, a dance of light and shadow, good and evil. But as they struck at the core, something miraculous happened. The vibes of anger and fear began to dissipate, replaced by a warm glow of unity and determination.

The tree screamed in agony, its branches shaking as the infection was purged from its core. The world outside seemed to sigh in relief, the snowflakes slowing in their descent as if the very air itself was celebrating.

And as the last vestiges of the infection faded away, they found themselves in a clearing, the tree now a mere stump. The French Narrator looked around in amazement. "It's done," he murmured. "The world of Team Fortress 2 is saved."

Sadboi looked at Simon, who stood tall and proud beside her. "Thank you," she said. "For choosing to fight with us."

Simon nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he said. "For giving me a purpose once more."

The group stood there, basking in their victory, the first real victory Sadboi had felt in a long time. It was a moment of pure joy, a reminder that she wasn't alone in her quest.

The French Narrator clapped his hands together. "Now, mes amis, it is time to move on. There are more worlds to save, more hearts to mend. Shall we?"

#multifandom #spongebob #team fortress 2 #fanfic? kinda but is for fun #contains: self-insert #no spoilers for non-tagged media btw #sisma

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