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taurasiluvr · 6 months ago

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how you can help palestine

★ to the public, you and diana taurasi hated one another – you were the new, best young thing in the wnba and she was the seasoned vet – there was no other option. however, maybe that's not the whole story. ★ enemies w/ benefits ft. dt

⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. strap-usage, slight degradation and fluff, mommy kink (nothing too crazy), aftercare. might turn into a series if enough people ask for it ;)

⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 2.6k

the final buzzer sounded, showing the end of a heated game between the phoenix mercury and the las vegas aces. the aces had come out strong and won, the crowd's roar echoed through the arena. the players were a mix of exhausted and exhilarated, their emotions raw and visible. you were standing with your teammates, and you couldn’t resist the chance to bother diana, the vet whose shadow you were often compared to.

as the players began to mingle and exchange the usual post-game pleasantries, you approached taurasi with a sly smile. "tough game, huh?" you say, your voice loud enough for those nearby to hear. the grin on your face was deliberately infuriating.

diana turned to face me, her eyes narrowing. she was still catching her breath, sweat trickling down her face, but her competitive spirit was undiminished. "yeah, well, you win some, you lose some," she replied coolly, but the irritation in her voice was unmistakable.

"guess you’re losing more than winning these days," you continued, the taunt coming easily.

the rivalry between us was well-documented, and the media loved to play it up. they thrived on the narrative of the veteran versus the rising star, and moments like this only fueled the fire.

diana's eyes flashed, and for a moment, you thought she might lash out. instead, she stepped closer, her voice low so only you could hear. "you really want to do this here, now?" she asked, the edge in her tone making it clear she wasn’t in the mood for games.

the intensity in her gaze gave me pause, but you weren't about to back down. "why not? it's not like we’re friends," you shot back, keeping my voice just as quiet but no less pointed.

"oh trust me sweetheart, being your friend is the last thing on my list," she spat as she looked me up and down.

your lips quirked up into a smirk. "good, cause i'd hate to be disappointed."

diana's eyes narrowed further, but there was a spark there, something more than just anger. "really wanna start this now, princess? sure you can handle it,"

the tension between you two was palpable, that neither of you could deny, even if you wanted to. as the crowd began to disperse and the arena started to empty, you both knew how this would end.

you hated that nickname, "princess" – it seemed everyone and their mom liked using the fact that you're a young, rising star to belittle you. not to mention you've gotten quite popular with media, nicknamed the wnba's princess.

however, you wanted to see how far you could push diana.

"see you around, taurasi," you said, turning away with a casual wave. but you didn't get far before you felt her hand gripping your arm, stopping you.

"not so fast," she said, her grip firm. "we're, not done here."

you raised an eyebrow, looking back at her. "oh? got something else to say?"

her eyes held yours, and for a moment, it was as if the rest of the world faded away. "you know where to find me," she said, her voice low and unmistakably suggestive.

later that night, under the cover of darkness, you found yourself outside her house. you knocked, a part of you wondering if this was a terrible idea, but the larger part of you knowing exactly why you were here. the door opened, and there she was, the same fierce determination in her eyes that she had on the court.

"get in here," she said, pulling you inside. the door closed behind you, and the air between you crackled with unresolved tension.

before you could say anything, her lips were on yours, urgent and demanding. you kissed her back with equal fervor, the line between hate and desire blurring rapidly. it was always like this – a collision of raw emotion and physical need.

you pushed her against the wall, your hands tangling in her hair as the kiss deepened. she responded with a growl, her fingers digging into your sides. it was a battle, a struggle for dominance, but that was part of the thrill – and at the end, you both knew who would win.

her hands found your hair, pulling it just enough for you to let out something in between a yelp and a moan. "wanna test me right now, princess?"

you couldn't help but smirk at the challenge in her voice, the nickname "princess" now tinged with a hint of admiration rather than mockery.

"always up for a challenge," you replied breathlessly, your own hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her closer.

diana's lips curved into a wicked smile as she leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. "good," she murmured, her voice low and husky. "cause i plan on making you remember who you're dealing with."

with that, she kissed you again, fiercely and hungrily, her tongue sliding against yours in a dance of desire and defiance. the air was thick with tension, the room alive with the sound of ragged breaths and quiet moans. clothes were discarded in haste, each move driven by an unspoken challenge to push the other to the edge.

you backed her towards the bed, your hands exploring every inch of her body as if trying to memorize the feel of her beneath your touch. diana responded eagerly, her nails grazing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. it was a clash of wills, a battle of dominance, but in the midst of it all, there was an undeniable attraction that neither of you could deny.

she pushed you on to the bed, you sat down and looked up at the older woman – her slicked-back bun, her slicked-back bun starting to come undone, wisps of hair framing her determined face. there was an intensity in her eyes that made your heart race, a mix of challenge and desire that left you breathless. you watched as she stood over you, her chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, the air between you thick with anticipation.

she gripped your face, pulling it upward so she could fully watch you. "didn't like that attitude earlier princess, do i need fuck some politeness into ya?"

her words sent a shiver down your spine, the mixture of dominance and desire igniting something deep within you – diana always seemed to have that effect on you. "maybe you do," you shot back, your voice trembling with a blend of defiance and arousal.

diana's eyes darkened, a smirk playing on her lips as she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. "again, with that damn tone. didn't i tell you to fix it?"

her voice was a low, dangerous whisper, the threat behind her words only heightening your arousal.

"guess i'm a slow learner," you replied, your voice shaky but filled with a defiant edge.

diana's grip tightened on your face, her nails digging slightly into your skin. "then i'll have to teach you a lesson you won't forget this time, huh princess?"

without warning, she captured your lips in a bruising kiss, her teeth grazing your bottom lip in a way that made you gasp. she pushed you back onto the bed, her body pressing down on yours, her hands pinning your wrists above your head. the weight of her, the strength in her grip, was intoxicating.

"you think you can handle this, princess?" she murmured against your lips, her voice a mix of challenge and desire.

"try me," you shot back, your own voice breathless with need.

diana's smirk widened, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam. "oh, i will, honey. i will,"

the next few moments were a blur of heated kisses and urgent touches, your bodies moving together in a franticly with need. she moved with a fierce determination, her hands and lips exploring every inch of your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. it was a battle for dominance, each of you pushing and pulling, trying to assert control even as you surrendered to the her touch.

diana got up for a second, a disappointed moan coming out of your lips before she sent you a warning glare. when she came back, she had exactly what you were waiting for – her treasured strap (or as dee liked to call it, her dick).

she moved with a predatory grace, climbing onto the bed and straddling you, her hands pressing you back against the mattress. diana tore at your clothes, the sound of fabric ripping adding to the intensity of the moment as you let out a small whimper.

her hands roamed over your bare skin, her touch alternately rough and tender. she always knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss, to drive you to the brink and pull you back again.

diana leaned down, her lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left you dizzy. her hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming, as if trying to assert her dominance. you responded in kind, your fingers digging into her skin, pulling her closer, the need to feel her overwhelming.

"dee," you whimpered as her lips moved to your neck, her teeth grazing your sensitive skin in a way that made you shiver.

her hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart as she positioned herself between them, her eyes locking onto yours.

diana's smirk widened as she aligned her strap, teasing you for a moment before pushing in slowly. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and a slight edge of pain that only heightened your arousal.

"oh fuck, dee." you moaned as one hands moved to your hips, the other quickly found itself on your neck. your eyes fluttered shut, you felt whole again – despite the earlier pain, it felt good now.

"you like that, princess?" her gaze lingered on your face, taking in every expression, every sound, every little thing you did.

she waited for response and when she didn't get any, she gave your neck a squeeze, a moan spilling out of your bruised lips. "y-yes, mommy."

she let out a throaty laugh at that, shaking her head. she wouldn't admit it anyone – except you – but she liked the pet name and the sound of your voice dropped down to her pussy.

"fuck, baby," she rasped out as her head fell back. you gasped, your hands clutching at her shoulders, nails digging in as she began to move.

her thrusts were deliberate, controlled, driving you to the brink and pulling you back again. diana watched you closely, her eyes dark, the connection between you was unyielding. she leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, swallowing your moans as she continued to move inside you.

the rhythm of her movements was relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. your body responded to her with a need you couldn't control, arching against her, meeting each thrust with desperate urgency. the filthy sounds filled the room, a symphony of gasps, moans, and the slap of skin against skin.

"mommy, please," you whimpered, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of release.

"oh now you wanna be all polite, huh princess?" she growled, her pace quickening, her grip on your hips tightening as she drove you further into a frenzy. "wanna hear you beg."

"please!" you gasped, the word barely more than a whisper as you clung to her, every nerve in your body on fire. "please, mommy, need it."

her eyes flashed with satisfaction, and she leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "that's more like it," she murmured before increasing her pace, each thrust driving you closer and closer to the brink. "good fuckin' girl," she praised.

when your release finally came, it was explosive, your body arching against hers as waves of pleasure crashed over you. diana didn't let up, riding you through your climax, prolonging the intense sensations until you were completely spent, trembling beneath her.

she finally slowed, her movements becoming gentle as she helped you come down from the high. she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin as you caught your breath.

"better?" she asked, her voice softening, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"mhm," you replied, your voice weak but nonetheless satisfied. you looked up at her, seeing the same mix of satisfaction and maybe a hint of affection in her eyes. "always know how to put me in my place."

diana chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "and you always know how to push my buttons, sweetheart."

she cleaned you up, a care that contrasted sharply with the intensity of your previous actions. diana's touch was gentle as she wiped the sweat and remnants of your passion from your skin. the intimacy of the act sent a different kind of warmth through you, one that was softer, more enduring.

as she finished, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "you should get some rest," she said, her voice a gentle murmur. "you're leaving early tomorrow,"

you nodded, feeling a mix of exhaustion and contentment. "mmm, you're right."

diana helped you get comfortable, adjusting the pillows and tucking the blanket around you. it was a rare moment of domesticity between you two, a fleeting glimpse of what things could be if circumstances were different.

"will you stay?" you found yourself asking, your voice barely more than a whisper. it was a vulnerable question, one that you weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer to.

if you were at your place, she'd usually leave and if you were at her's, she'd usually sleep in the guest bedroom. however, for some odd reason, tonight felt different.

she hesitated for a moment, her expression softening as she looked at you. "just a little while," she finally said, climbing into bed beside you.

you turned to face her, your bodies fitting together in a way that felt both familiar and comforting. diana wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close, her warmth enveloping you.

"you know this doesn't change anything," she whispered, her breath warm against your ear.

"i know," you replied, your voice equally soft. "but maybe, just for tonight, we can pretend it does."

she didn't respond, but the way she held you, the way her fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, told you that she understood. for now, in the quiet of the early morning, you could both set aside the rivalry, the competition, and just be.

when you awoke, you both lay there for a while, the early morning light casting a soft glow over the room. eventually, you knew you had to leave. as you got dressed, diana watched you, her expression unreadable.

"good luck with the next game," diana said, her tone neutral but her eyes betraying a hint of something more. "i'll be watching it," she added, her voice tinged with amusement (and maybe a bit of mockery).

"me too," you replied with a smile. "try not to get a tech next game,"

she rolled her eyes as she waved you away, pushing the covers over her face. you laughed, getting out of the room and walked toward the door.

and you stepped out into the early morning light, you couldn’t help but smile again. whatever this was – enemies, rivals, lovers – it was yours and diana's alone, a secret game played in the shadows, far from the prying eyes of the public. and for now, that was enough.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

#diana taurasi #diana taurasi x reader #phoenix mercury #wnba x reader #wnba basketball #wbb #diana taurasi x you #wbb x reader #wbb smut #wnba smut #taurasiluvr writing

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revelboo · 25 days ago

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Ahh yes, the day of turkey has come. Hope you'll enjoy yourself and we're very thankful for what you've done for us. Have fun and be safe! 😋🍗🥧🥂💖💖💖

Thank you! You guys have a great holiday, too

Lose Control Pt 2

IDW Swerve x Reader

• Reaching for a drying rag, he closes the distance between you. Aware of how tense you are as he slowly drapes it about your shoulders and offers a servo to you. Would rather pick you up, but since he’s as vertically challenged as you are, he can’t help thinking about how it would feel if Magnus or Megs just picked him up without permission to move him. Not exactly cool. Staring at his servo, you look up at his face and reach out to lay your warm palm on him. Letting him lead you in an awkward hunch behind the bar. “So, name’s Swerve and this is Swerve’s,” he says, unable to resist grinning.

• He’s not so scary, you decide as you shakily look around. There’s just something disarming about that friendly voice and you clutch at the blanket he gave you, tension easing. If he was going to hurt you, he would have by now. Right? “Where am I?” You remember pain and then being here, scared and disoriented. Your fingers won’t stop shaking.

• “Okay,” he says, pulling out another cleaning cloth and draping it over your head because you’re still shaky. Could just be after effects of being brought here across space and time, though. He can’t imagine it’s fun to be yanked from place to place suddenly. “So, brace yourself, you’re in space. On a ship.” Spreading his hands he waits for the disbelief. Not for the blank stare at his revelation. You’d heard him right? “You know. Space.”

• “Okay. Unbeam me up. Put me back.” It’s not like you can demand anything of the big, alien robot or force him to do anything, but this has to be a mistake. You shouldn’t be here, obviously. He has to understand that. “I have work tomorrow.” Even to you, the words sound dumb.

• “What?” I have work tomorrow? “I can’t send you back, we’re nowhere near Earth.” And you’re still staring at him, eyes narrowing slightly like you don’t believe him at all. “Here, look.” Gingerly catching you around the middle, he boosts you up onto the back counter and climbs up after you. Points at the view screen visible near the stacks of bottles and glasses and follows you down to the end of the bar as you stare out at nothing but darkness and stars. No planets within sight. And he almost doesn’t manage to catch you when you make a funny little noise and your eyes roll up in your head, going disturbingly boneless as you black out.

#transformers x reader #swerve x reader #idw swerve

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anxietycheesecake · 11 days ago

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I'm sorry that you're being attacked and blocked for having valid criticisms. It's really weird to be new to this fandom and watch it go from a fairly positive space to fans being as nasty to each other as Star Wars fans in such a short period of time, especially when the crumbs people are cobbling together and calling a canonized ship is what we scrape for in other fandoms with ships we know will never be canon and we KNOW we're stretching the material we're given. I love my queerplatonic ships, found families, and platonic soulmates. I can absolutely enjoy Nandermo through that lens, but the gaslighting and mental gymnastics here is raising such a fucking eyebrow and you don't deserve to feel like you've done something wrong for recognizing it.

Being allosexual or alloromantic is as valid as being asexual or aromatic and it's actually so fucking unchill to conflate being gay or pan with being ace or aro just because they are all under the queer umbrella.

Ace =/= celibate, but half this fandom thinks Guillermo is a virgin and I can't help but think that's being bundled into the hot takes that are coming out right now when it's canon that he's uncomfortable due to being in the closet and his Catholic upbringing. Yes, he could be ace, but that means at best were batting 1/4 for aroace Nandermo.

Nandor has sex with Gail onscreen and is very clearly not ace. The vampires would have MINIMALLY mentioned Guillermo being a virgin and wouldn't have eagerly asked about his sex life in Atlantic City if they thought he was one and they practically have radar for it. He was panicking over Jeremy being a virgin and having brought him into the house and the only thing that saved the guy was losing his virginity. Nandor and Guillermo are both romantic in romantic relationships, and both are expressive about it and tell others they love them.

When you speedrun the entire series and the notable interviews with fresh eyes and not over a stretch of years the leap between 'My Nan- Master' vs. best friends, cuddling a Nandor puppet at night, the I'll make you a vampire speech vs. the vibe in the warrior speech is SO visible and it fits perfectly with Simms' public discomfort with fans shipping Nandor and Guillermo. He is openly uncomfortable with them being in a romantic relationship or having sex with each other and uses every homophobic gaslighting tactic in the playback when speaking about it.

“No, I do think there’s a small subset of very vocal people on Twitter who are like ‘We want to see Nandor and Guillermo hook up,’ and we’re always like, I think their love is bigger and more profound than that,” Simms said. “And also do you really want to see that? Do you?”

This is literally how straight people talk when they're uncomfortable with queer shit. What haven't we seen in this show other than that? Is Nadja and Laszlo's love lesser for it?

“Times that we’ve talked about it and explored it, the power dynamics seem so problematic,” Simms continued. “I mean, that’s his boss.”

In a show where the main couple started with nonconsensual sex (it's still noncon if it turns out that they could have had sex without hypnosis) and Laszlo fucks Colin Robinson after raising him for a gag. Sure, keep telling yourselves that the power dynamic is what makes Simms uncomfortable.

"I mean, it's a nice thought, for some...I don't know about these guys" Kayvan says as he nods toward Simms.

I've seen the Harvey interviews and talking heads from earlier seasons on the subject of Nandermo. The 2024 panel couldn't have been more different, and Harvey seemed completely subdued when the others were discussing Nandermo fanart and them being a ship.

This isn't a person who deserves applause for queer representation and it seems toxic af that Harvey has been stuck in a workplace where he has to hear this drivel when he's openly gay. Yes, I am side eyeing the fuck out of this and it's not because I'm crying over wanting my blorbos to smooch.

You can actually have a romantic pair not kiss or fuck or say I love you without pulling a very clear 'no homo.' That would have been totally fine, but they didn't do that. Copy and paste that scene into anything starring Andy Samberg, or literally anything bro centric and tell me it's a romantic love confession. Or rather, try taking it off tumblr and see if anybody thinks it isn't deep platonic male friendship.

It's okay for people to be upset when they've been hoodwinked. It's okay to separate fanon from canon and still enjoy your ships. But ffs stop gaslighting each other and saying non-romance is romance or that non-romance has more worth than romance and that people are shallow for not valuing it when that's not the problem people have with this, and when that isn't the bill of good audiences we're sold in earlier seasons.

The call is coming from inside the house it shouldn't be.

(Also SO sorry for how long this was).

Never apologize for articulating this better than I ever could. I'm too lazy to look for all the recipes I know are out there, so most of the shit I say is like "source: trust me bro"; I'm glad someone else did it.

The aspec thing makes me so mad because, as a writer, I'm always going out of my way to properly and respectfully represent aspec folks. Like, I've got two novels starring an ace woman and an aromantic man. Do I deserve a medal for that? Of course not! It should be normal. But it's kind of infuriating that people are willing to give aspec rep credit to a show just because it made two male characters stay platonic after teasing their relationship for years and call me aphobic for pointing out that's not the case.

#wwdits #wwdits negativity #nandermo #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz #discourse #actually pinning this just so I can point at the sign every time someone comes to my blog with bs

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snowysosturn · 5 days ago

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Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 27

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28

Pairing : Y/n x dealer!Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mention of guns, description of murder, description of shooting, description of dead body

The air on the deck was crisp, biting in a way that kept my thoughts sharp. The sky was dark, the stars barely visible behind the thin veil of clouds. I was perched on one of the chairs, hugging a throw blanket close around me. The tension in the air was suffocating, but the silence was worse. Every few seconds, I’d glance at my phone, hoping to see a message from Nate.

The sliding door creaked open, and Chris stepped out. His footsteps were soft, deliberate, as he walked over and sat in the chair next to me. He rested his elbows on his knees, staring out into the darkness like it held some sort of answer.

"You should be resting" I said quietly, not wanting to shatter the fragile stillness.

Chris let out a hollow laugh. "Like that’s even possible right now." He rubbed his hands together, the motion slow and restless. "This whole thing.. it’s messed up, Y/n. More than I ever thought it could be."

I stayed silent, giving him space to speak.

"I’ve done a lot of stupid things" he admitted, his voice low, almost like he didn’t want me to hear it. "But this? Vince?" He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know how this ends. And Nate.. god, I’m worried about him. I just..I can’t lose him. Or you. And this whole thing feels like we’re walking a tightrope with no safety net.”

I glanced up at him. He looked as drained as I felt, his usual calm replaced by something raw and vulnerable. For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Then, he turned to me, his expression unguarded.

“I’m scared, Y/n” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was the honesty in his words that caught me off guard. Chris wasn’t the type to show fear, not like this. “I am too” I said, my voice matching his in quiet intensity.

Chris ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands like he was trying to pull his thoughts together. “It’s not just about Nate or what happens tonight. It’s..everything. I’ve been living like this for so long, I don’t even know what normal feels like anymore.”

I shifted in my chair, leaning forward. “You’re not alone in this, Chris. You know that, right?”

He gave a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve already lost. Like no matter what we do, Vince is always one step ahead. And now, Nate’s out there, and who knows what could go wrong-”

“Stop” I interrupted, standing and walking over to him. I placed a hand on his arm, grounding him. “Don’t go there. He’s going to be okay. You taught him how to handle himself.”

Chris turned to me, his eyes searching mine. “And if he’s not? If this all goes to shit?”

“Then we deal with it together” I said firmly. “We’ll find another way. But for now, we have to trust him.”

He looked down at me, his shoulders dropping as if the weight of everything was finally settling in. “I don’t deserve you, you know that?”

I gave him a small smile, reaching up to brush my fingers against his cheek. “You do. Even if you don’t see it yet.”

For a moment, we just stood there, the world around us falling away. Chris wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. I could feel his heart pounding against my own, the rhythm erratic and raw.

“Thank you” he whispered into my hair. “For sticking with me through this.”

“Always” I murmured back, my arms tightening around him.

We stayed like that for a while, holding on to each other like it was the only thing keeping us from falling apart. But eventually, the sound of Chris’s phone vibrating on the deck table shattered the moment. It had nearly been 4 hours since Nate left.

He pulled away reluctantly, checking the screen. “It’s Nate.” he said, his voice tense.

My stomach dropped as I watched him swipe to answer, bringing the phone to his ear. “You good?” he asked immediately.

Nate’s POV

The drive to the docks felt longer than it actually was, the time reading 10pm. The streets were dark and empty, the kind of quiet that never sat right with me.

“You’re quiet” Willow said suddenly, breaking the silence.

I glanced at her briefly. “Trying to focus.”

“On what? You said this wasn’t unusual for you” she pointed out, tucking her phone away. “If you’re so used to going to this place, why are you acting so tense?”

I sighed, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Because this time’s different. I’m not picking up. I’m sneaking in to grab footage, if anyone catches me, I’m screwed. We’re all screwed.”

Willow stared at me for a moment, as if weighing something in her mind. “Would it be better if I called the cops? I mean no one knows my voice.”

“I mean, if you want to.” I shrugged. “Just make sure to put it on speaker so I can hear.”

She swallowed hard and dialed the non emergency number for the Boston Police Department, her fingers trembling slightly. As the line rang, she stared out the window at the street lights.

Finally, a calm voice answered. “Boston Police Department, how can I assist you?”

Willow cleared her throat, forcing confidence into her voice. “Hi, um, I need to report something. I don’t know if this is the right number for it, but I think there’s something illegal happening down at the docks.”

I glanced at her briefly, giving her a small nod of encouragement as she continued.

“What kind of illegal activity are you referring to, ma’am?” the dispatcher asked, their tone professional but curious.

“It’s.. drugs. I overheard some people talking about a stash being kept in a warehouse near the docks. I-I don’t know all the details, but it sounded serious, like a big operation.” Willow took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Do you know the specific location or the warehouse number?” They question.

“Yeah, um…”

“Warehouse 7” I mouth to her silently.

“It’s the warehouse on Pier 7. I think that’s the one. They mentioned it by name.”

The dispatcher asked for more details, how she knew this, if she’d seen anything herself. Willow stuck to the story they’d agreed on. “No, I didn’t see it myself. I just overheard it. I live near the docks, and some guys were talking about it at the coffee shop. They sounded serious, like it’s happening tonight or really soon.”

“Understood. Can you describe the individuals you overheard?”

“Not really, sorry. I didn’t want to stare or get involved. They just seemed.. rough, you know? Like they didn’t want anyone overhearing, but I did. I thought it would be best to report it, just in case.”

“You did the right thing. Do you feel safe where you are, ma’am? We can have officers sent to your location if you feel threatened.”

“No, no, I’m fine!” Willow says quickly. “I just..I didn’t want to keep this to myself. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Thank you for letting us know. We’ll send officers to investigate Pier 7. If we need more information, we may call you back. Is this the best number to reach you?”

“Uh, no!” She says, starting to panic, her eyes darting toward mine. “I mean.. I’d rather stay anonymous, if that’s okay. I don’t want to get involved.”

“Of course. We’ll treat this as an anonymous tip. Thank you again for bringing this to our attention.” The dispatcher says calmly.

“Okay. Thanks.”

She hung up the phone and took a deep, shaky breath. I could tell her heart was pounding, and she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins

By the time we reached the docks, the flashing red and blue lights were already bouncing off the dark water, reflecting like twisted, chaotic stars. Cop cars were everywhere, doors open, officers fanning out with flashlights, yelling orders to one another. The scene was total chaos, exactly what we needed.

Willow shifted nervously in her seat as I parked a ways off, hiding the car in the shadow of a large shipping container. “You think they’re finding anything?” she asked.

“Doesn’t matter” I said, scanning the scene. “As long as they’re here, Vince won’t be. Can guarantee no one will be down here for the rest of the night.”

She nodded, but her eyes lingered on the swarm of officers. “What now?”

“Now, we wait.”

We sat in the car for what felt like hours, the occasional flicker of a flashlight passing too close for comfort. Willow fidgeted beside me, playing with the drawstring on her hoodie. The air felt thick, like every breath I took was heavier than the last.

“Nate?” she said quietly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this? I mean really doing this.”

I glanced at her, caught off guard by the question. Her expression was serious, searching.

“Because I owe him.” I admitted, my voice low. “Chris got dragged into all this because of me. I’ve been in this mess longer than he has, shit, my family’s been in it longer. But Chris? He doesn’t deserve this. If there’s even a chance I can help him get out, I’ll take it.”

Willow was quiet for a moment, staring at me like she was trying to read between the lines. “You’re a good friend” she said softly.

I snorted, shaking my head. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well, I do” she said, her voice firm. “And whatever happens, you’re not in this alone. Chris isn’t either. Y/n and I, we’re here. You don’t have to carry this on your own.”

I didn’t respond, because I wasn’t sure how. Instead, I turned my attention back to the cops swarming the docks, my leg bouncing impatiently. “They’re taking forever.”

“You want a distraction?” Willow said lightly, suggestive.

I let out a small laugh, but it didn’t last. My eyes locked on hers, now distracted from watching the officers move deeper into the maze of containers and warehouses. Maybe this distraction could be a stress reliever.

The clock on the dashboard read 2:11am, and the docks were finally starting to look deserted. After four maybe not so agonizing hours. The surge of officers now dissipated.

Willow glanced over at me, her eyes heavy with exhaustion but still alert. “Looks like they’re done.”

I nodded, gripping my phone. “I’m going to call Chris, I’ll add you in too so you can keep us all updated about our surroundings.” I muttered, already dialing.

The line clicked, and Chris’s voice came through, groggy but instantly alert. “Nate? What’s going on?”

“Cops are gone” I said, keeping my voice low despite the empty surroundings. “I’m about to head into the warehouse.”

There was a pause on the other end before Chris responded, his tone sharp. “You sure it’s safe? They might’ve left something behind? Cameras? maybe even someone keeping watch.”

“It’s clear” I assured him, though my stomach churned with doubt. “Willow’s staying outside as a lookout. If anything moves, she’ll let me know.”

I heard Y/n’s voice faintly in the background, likely asking Chris what was happening. A moment later, he spoke again. “Just be quick. Get in, grab the footage, and get out. Don’t stick around for anything else.”

“I know, I’m not taking any chances. I’ll grab the timeframe we talked about and dip.”

Chris exhaled loudly, the tension in his voice palpable even over the phone. “Alright. Keep us on the line.”

“Will do” I said.

I looked at Willow, who was gripping her own phone, ready to keep us in check if anything seemed off. “You good?” I asked.

She gave me a faint smile, though I could see the nerves in her eyes. “Just hurry, okay?”

I nodded and stepped out of the car, the cool night air biting at my skin. The warehouse loomed ahead, it's dark silhouette eerily still. My footsteps echoed faintly on the pavement as I approached, every sound amplified by the emptiness around me.

Here goes nothing, I thought, pulling my hoodie up and tightening my grip on the burner phone in my hand. With one last glance back at Willow, who gave me a reassuring nod, I slipped inside the warehouse, ready to find the evidence that could finally bring Vince down.

Y/N’s POV

The clock read 2:17am. Hours had passed, and the only sound in the Airbnb was the hum of Chris pacing the living room and the faint noise of Nate’s rummaging around through the group call. Willow was on lookout, her voice crackling in every now and then to confirm everything was clear. I sat cross legged on the couch,trying to stay calm as Nate worked his way into Vince’s warehouse.

“You good in there?” Chris asked Nate for the fifth time, his voice low but sharp. He wasn’t pacing anymore, he was frozen in place, arms crossed, staring at his phone as if his gaze could somehow keep Nate safe.

“Yeah, man. I’m fine” Nate replied, his voice muffled slightly through the call. “I’m in the office now. Give me a second.”

“Second’s up.” Chris muttered.

I shot Chris a look. “Pushing him isn’t going to make this go any faster.”

Chris let out a frustrated sigh and dropped onto the armrest next to me. His knee bounced relentlessly. “You know what would make it faster? If Vince didn’t have the whole place locked down tighter than Fort Knox.”

I ignored him and leaned closer to the phone. “Nate, what are you looking at?”

There was silence for a moment. “It’s a computer, but-” He paused, and I could hear him typing faintly. “No. No, no, no. Shit.”

“What?” Chris and I said at the same time.

“They wiped it.” Nate answered sharply. “All the footage inside the warehouse is gone. Whoever cleared it knew what they were doing. Dates, files, everything’s been scrubbed.”

Chris cursed under his breath, shoving off the armrest to pace again. “This was a waste of time. I told you! Vince doesn’t leave loose ends.”

“No, wait.” I cut in, feeling the gears in my mind turning. “Nate, check the surrounding warehouses. Some of them might have external CCTV that points toward Vince’s place. If we’re lucky, you might be able to grab something there.”

“You sure about that?” Nate asked skeptically.

“It’s worth a shot” I said firmly. “Vince’s crew wouldn’t have access to neighboring businesses’ systems. They wouldn’t think to wipe that footage.”

There was a pause before Nate let out a small sigh. “Alright. I’ll check.”

Nate’s POV

I stepped back out into the cold night air, my burner phone clutched tightly in my hand as I glanced around the yard. I could see Willow’s silhouette across the yard, crouched low behind a rusted shipping container, her phone pressed to her ear as she kept watch.

“Willow, you see anything?” I whispered.

“All clear” she said softly. “But hurry up. I don’t like how empty it feels right now.”

I jogged to the warehouse next door and pressed my face to the side window. Sure enough, I spotted a small CCTV camera perched above one of the external doors, pointed directly at Vince’s place.

Bingo.

I forced open the back door, slipping inside quickly. The office was just as empty and lifeless as Vince’s, dusty computers and monitors blinking faintly on standby. I moved to the system hooked to the cameras and noticed a flash drive connected, I opened it, praying this would work.

“Alright, I’m in” I muttered into the phone, accessing the drive and pulling up the camera’s footage. I scrolled back through the dates as quickly as I could, pinpointing the windows Y/n had told me to look for, the night Danny died, and the night of Danny’s funeral.

“Any luck?” Y/n asked, her voice anxious.

“Yeah” I breathed, watching the thumbnails pop up. “I’ve got footage of the warehouse yard for both nights.” I started the download, watching the bar slowly crawl forward.

“Thank fuck.” Chris said. “Get it and get out of there, Nate.”

“I’m working on it” I shot back.

Suddenly, the computer beeped at me, flashing a warning: Storage Full - Delete Files?

“Damn it!” I hissed.

“What’s wrong?” Willow’s voice broke through.

“The system’s full. It won’t let me pull more footage unless I delete something. It’s asking about tonight.”

“No.” Y/n said immediately. “Delete tonight’s footage. You don’t want a record of you breaking and entering.”

“Agreed” Chris said. “Get rid of it.”

I didn’t waste time arguing. I deleted the footage from tonight, watching it disappear off the list. The download finished, and I yanked the flash drive out, shoving it into my pocket.

“Alright, I’ve got it” I said, relief flooding through me. “I’m on my way back.”

“Be careful” Willow said, moving from her spot to meet me halfway back to the car.

We moved quickly, both of us keeping our heads low. When we reached the car, I slid into the driver’s seat and exhaled.

“Let’s get out of here. Please let there be something on this.”

Y/N’s POV

I let out a shaky breath as Nate announced he was heading back. “Thank God” I muttered, sinking back into the couch. Chris leaned against the back of the sofa, his jaw tense, but I could see the faint relief in his posture.

“They better get here quick” Chris mumbled. “I don’t like them being out there too long.”

“They will” I reassured him, though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself.

Chris sat beside me, rubbing his hands over his face. “You think we’ll actually get something useful off that footage?”

“I hope so” I said honestly. “If we can prove anything happened on either of those nights, it could link Vince to something bigger.”

Chris stared at the floor, silent for a long moment before muttering, “It has to. Otherwise, what the fuck are we doing all this for?”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. Chris looked up at me, his expression softening just slightly. For the first time tonight, the fear in his eyes was clear. He looked vulnerable, something I knew he’d hate admitting.

“Chris” I said softly, “we’re going to figure this out. I promise.”

He let out a slow breath and nodded. “I hope you’re right.”

The clock blinked 4:00 AM in harsh green digits when Nate and Willow finally pulled into the driveway. I heard the car engine shutting off, followed by two car doors closing in quick succession. Chris was sprawled on the couch, his head propped against the armrest, mouth slightly parted as he dozed. The minute he’d heard Nate and Willow were safe and on their way back, he’d let exhaustion pull him under, like a switch flipping off in his mind.

I stood from the dining room table where I’d been pacing between mindless tasks, checking and rechecking my phone, picking at my nails. My gaze drifted to Chris, softened by sleep, his features free of worry, for now. I almost didn’t want to wake him.

“They’re back” I murmured, hurrying to let them in.

Willow stepped inside first, her jacket half zipped and cheeks flushed from the cold air. “It’s freezing out there.” she muttered, brushing past me toward the kitchen. “I need coffee or something warm before I keel over.”

Nate came in right after her, looking worn and tired, his dark hoodie pulled up and his face paler than usual. He didn’t say anything at first, just held up the USB drive like it was a trophy he’d earned.

“Got it.” he said gruffly.

“Thank God.” I let out a long breath, relief washing over me like a wave. “I set up the computer already, come on.”

Chris stirred at the sound of Nate’s voice, his brow creasing before his eyes fluttered open. He groaned quietly, shifting on the couch to sit up. “They’re back?” His voice was hoarse, thick with sleep.

“They’re back” I confirmed, leading Nate toward the small office tucked behind the kitchen.

Chris was on his feet in seconds, shuffling after us as he rubbed his eyes awake. Willow followed, cradling a mug of instant coffee she’d somehow put together in record time.

The office was cramped, but it had a decent sized desktop computer sitting on a small desk, just as I’d found earlier. The monitor flickered to life as Nate leaned down to plug in the USB. Chris hovered right behind him, resting his hands on the back of the chair as if he couldn’t trust himself to sit still.

“Please tell me there’s something” Chris muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

Nate didn’t reply at first, clicking through the folders he’d saved. A list of video files appeared on the monitor, timestamps neatly arranged in order.

“This is from the warehouse across from Vince’s” Nate said, pointing at the first file. “The night Danny died.”

A tension filled silence settled over the room as Nate opened the video. The grainy footage appeared, a black and white view of the loading docks outside Vince’s warehouse. The time stamp in the corner read 11:42 pm.

I stepped closer, my breath catching as we all watched. The footage showed Vince’s warehouse, its doors slightly ajar, a faint flicker of light spilling out. Moments later, shadowy figures began to move in the distance - men. My stomach churned as I realized what we were seeing.

“There” Chris said sharply, pointing to the screen. “That’s them.”

The footage was grainy, but Vince’s hulking figure was unmistakable as he stepped into the light. Two other men trailed behind him. A small, tense conversation played out near the door, though we couldn’t hear it.

“That’s Danny” Nate whispered, his voice tight with emotion. “It has to be.”

The figure stumbled into the pool of light spilling from the warehouse door. Danny was easy to spot, his smaller frame, the familiar way he carried himself even under duress. He turned to face Vince, his hands raised as if pleading with him.

“Jesus” Willow whispered, hugging her knees to her chest as she sat on the floor.

We watched, frozen, as Vince stepped closer to Danny. The camera’s view wasn’t clear enough to capture their expressions, but Vince’s body language spoke volumes, aggressive, domineering. He jabbed a finger at Danny’s chest as he shouted something, his movements sharp and jerky.

Chris’s breathing had grown heavier, his shoulders tense. I could feel the anger radiating off of him as the scene played out.

“What are they saying?” I whispered, though I knew no one had an answer.

Danny shook his head frantically in the video, backing away, only to be grabbed by one of Vince’s men. He was shoved to his knees, his arms pinned behind him.

“Stop it” Chris muttered, his voice low but pained. “Fast forward, man. I don’t think you need to see this.”

Nate’s hand shot out. “No. Let it play.”

Nate froze, his expression torn. For a moment, I wanted to say something, to stop this, to shield Chris and Nate from what we were about to witness, but I couldn’t find the words.

We watched as Vince crouched down in front of Danny, speaking low and slow, his face so close it made my skin crawl. Danny tried to twist away, but the men held him in place.

And then Vince stood, turned, and said something to one of his men. The second figure stepped forward, pulling something from his coat. The metallic gleam of a pistol caught hitting off the light.

“No” Nate said sharply, shoving back from the desk. “No, I’m done.”

He stood abruptly, storming toward the other side of the room, but Chris didn’t move. His knuckles were white where they gripped the chair.

Danny struggled, his movements frantic, but it was no use. Vince held the gun in his right hand, lifting it up point directly at Danny.

My hand flew to my mouth as Danny’s body slumped forward. Blood pooled across the concrete, dark even on the grainy footage. Vince said something to his crew, and without hesitation, they began dragging Danny’s lifeless body toward the warehouse doors.

The footage went still.

The time stamp now read 11:53am.

A choked sound broke the silence, Chris. He turned away from the screen, pacing toward the window as he pressed the heels of his hands against his face.

“Chris..” I whispered, unsure what to say, my voice trembling.

Willow was crying quietly, hiding her face in her arms. Nate stood with his back to the room, both hands braced against the wall like he was holding himself up.

I swallowed hard, feeling my stomach turn as the full weight of what we’d seen settled on me. It was undeniable now. Vince killed Danny and the footage showed everything.

Chris t,urned back, his eyes red rimmed and his jaw tight. “We have him.” he said hoarsely, his voice raw with emotion. “That bastard’s done.”

Nate spun around, his eyes glistening with tears and rage. “Yeah? And what do we do with this? You think the cops are just gonna watch it and say, ‘Thanks, boys! we’ll handle it’?”

“We take it to someone who can help ” I said softly, stepping forward. “This is evidence. Vince can’t run, not from this.”

“Y/n’s right” Chris said firmly, his voice steadier now. “We get this in the right hands, and Vince goes down. No more running, no more looking over our shoulders.”

Nate dragged a hand through his hair, still breathing heavily. “And what if he finds out we have this?”

“We don’t let him” Chris snapped. “We keep it safe until we’re ready.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as we all processed what had just happened. The footage had given us the answer we’d been searching for, but it came at a price. Seeing Danny like that, helpless, scared, was something none of us could ever unsee.

I took a shaky breath, my hands trembling as I gripped the edge of the desk. “We’ll figure it out” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “We have to.”

Chris walked over, resting a hand on my shoulder. It was a small gesture, but the weight of it grounded me. I glanced up at him, meeting his gaze, hard and determined, but beneath that, I could see how deeply this had shaken him.

“We’re going to end this” Chris said quietly, his words meant for all of us. “For Danny. For us. Vince doesn’t win.”

Nate wiped a hand across his face, turning back toward the desk. “Then we start tomorrow” he said, his voice rough. “First thing.”

I nodded, though I knew none of us would be sleeping that night.

The four of us stayed there in the cramped little office, sitting in silence as the weight of what we’d seen hung in the air like a storm cloud. Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten ever so slightly, the first hints of dawn creeping over Cape Cod.

We had proof.

Now, we just had to survive long enough to use it.

a/n: ITS GOING DOWWWWWN

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#snowy speaks #snowys series #allies or affiliates?#dealer!chris #chris sturiolo fanfic #chris sturniolo series #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #nate doe #sturniolo x reader

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water-lemon-alex · 26 days ago

Text

the night before the finale.

a pre-s1e17 oneshot revolving around the season one finalists.

you have reached the end of the current chapter, but what about the one before it? what happened on the night before one of them went home a millionaire?

the penultimate episode of the first season has just finished airing, and the sun begun to set.

the show once had sixteen contestants fighting for the million-dollar prize, and each night they sleep, there were one (or two) less contestants by their side.

now, there were only two. two contestants.

one who only won a few couple challenges to get this far into the game, and another who kept her true persona a secret just for people to like her more.

both of them have just lost their closest allies in the competition. now, they’re on their own.

together.

the two finalists sat atop a hill, the one where all of them used to rest on. the sun is no longer visible from the sky— only the light of the moon reflected from it. the sky became dark, with a million tiny white diamonds in the sky.

the lettuce-filled “friend” sneakily tapped the glass of her orange competitor.

“hey! hey, oj!”

but the orange beverage didn’t respond. he was sulking over the loss of his best friend, who he thought was going to make the finals with him. now, he’s stuck with some half-witted mexican food.

then he finally takes a deep breath, and slowly turns to her with a sad look on his face.

“not now, taco. can’t you see i’m disappointed? i thought that i could make it with him to the finals! now i’m stuck with you…”

she clears her throat to get in character with her false persona.

“well— i lost my best friend, too! i never thought he would get voted off just when we’re this close to winning!”

“so he voted out him just so that you could advance…”

this argument is unnecessary. you can’t change something that already happened.

“…ugh, forget it. the finale’s tomorrow, and i need to get enough sleep to prepare for the final challenge.”

but both of them knew he wasn’t gonna sleep anytime soon. not with all the pressure from the game. it’s the finale, after all.

“…let me guess, you can’t sleep too.”

she nodded.

the hard-shelled contestant couldn’t sleep at all. she was still beaming with energy! (on the outside.) due to her high stamina, her plan was to tire him out before the finale.

“come on, we never got a chance to hang out at all! the moon’s so pretty tonight! let’s do something fun to tire ourselves out!”

…okay, this was supposed to be a game strategy, but in all sincerity, she actually does want to spend time with him, even just one time. as a treat.

this might be the first and last chance she’ll ever get. win or lose, she might never get to hang out with him again.

but whatever, it’s not like she became fond of anyone in the game at all or anything.

“what do you suggest we should do?”

“well, i dunno. have a little walk while lookin’ at the stars? we never really got to. because of the contest!”

he let out a deep sigh.

“…well, okay. maybe just once.”

the two started going down the hill to the direction of the very sixty-foot cliff where they once stood two years ago, when the show first aired.

taco started sprinting to the cliff, so much that oj couldn’t keep up without losing his balance and his juice in the process.

“h-hey! wait up! i thought we were going for a walk!”

“well, not anymooore-!”

she let out a hysterical laugh.

they finally stopped running when they finally reached the end of the cliff.

“ahaha… we’re heeeere-!”

with her left foot, she points at a certain something from the cliff. he thought she was gonna push him off.

“are you crazy!? are you going to push me off the cliff!?”

“not at all-! just look over there!”

all of those obstacles beyond the cliff weren’t even there before. looks like the host is preparing something big for the final contest.

“oooooh, that looks like the final challenge! so cool!”

“it looks like it’s still a work in progress.”

“well, fugget about it! let’s dance!”

“dance? seriously? with the only one left who’s standing in the way between you and the million? ha! let’s be honest right now. you don’t even have arms!”

“um, yeah i do!”

she unsheathes the arms she hid in her shell for so long, with the exception of a few instances where she actually used them.

“happy now?”

“you hid these the entire time!? you could’ve used these to your advantage!”

“oh, don’t worry! i won’t try to use them in the finale! i’ll try to go easy on you, because we both know i’m gonna win! easy!”

the orange glass teases back.

“haha, oh no, you’re not! because the million belongs to me!”

after a little while, she starts to reach her hand onto his.

“so? let’s go?”

“y-yeah! shall we?”

the energetic one got ahead of herself and unknowingly dragged their feet across the ground.

they turn, and they may tumble, but they both seem to enjoy themselves.

they’ll be rivals tomorrow, sure. but they are fellow competitors still in the running tonight. the only ones left, at that.

even if this bond will come to an end once all of this is over, even if the prize can’t go to the both of them,

they’ll enjoy the little time that they’ve had.

and as promised, they danced until they could barely catch their breath. (they didn’t exactly “dance”. none of them know how to dance! all they did was spin around in circles, hand in hand.)

now, they sat on the exact same spot as before. on the top of the hill.

“wow, that was…”

“crazy?”

“yeah, crazy! did you decide to do all this just to make me feel better after i lost paper?”

“well, i did this to make myself better after losing pickle! hahaha…”

“i guess we aren’t really so different. even if you’re kinda dumb sometimes, you did help me a few times with your lemons.”

“and you helped me win the boxing contest because of how fragile you are!”

“uh, correction! i didn’t help you win, i was just completely defenseless from those darn lemons…”

they begin to tease at each other again.

“i’m still riiiight-!”

“no, you’re nooot-!”

both of them let out some chuckles once again. their eyes are becoming heavy, and they have a big day tomorrow.

“well, good night, taco! i’m going to beat you tomorrow!”

“no! i’m gonna win! hahaha!”

the glass of juice has fallen fast asleep. sleeping upright. i guess that’s just how he sleeps just so that his juice wouldn’t spill all over the place.

before she closed her eyes, she hides her arms within her shell once more, gazed upon his resting face, and let out her true smile. a rather menacing smile, indeed— but her feelings were more… sincere.

for the first and the last time, she whispered,

“good night, oj.”

#waterlemon’s gallery #lem’s fics #inanimate insanity #fanfic #ii oj #oj ii #ii taco #taco ii #english breakfast #< implied if you ever so wish #i did this instead of working on the q&a and the artwork #and its almost 1am lmao #first time actually uploading a fanfic! we did it! hooray!#polymenu posting

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sassenach77yle · 2 days ago

Text

7x13 “HELLO, GOODBYE”

Suddenly they were into a scrim of trees—the low, wind-crabbed grove they’d lurked in earlier. But the dogs were on their track, barking eagerly, and they didn’t linger but fought their way through the brush and out again, up a steep hill turfed with heather. Roger’s foot sank through the spongy growth into a puddle, soaking him to the ankle, and he nearly lost his balance. Jerry set his feet and yanked Roger upright, then lost his own balance when his knee gave way; they clung together, wobbling precariously for an instant, then Roger lurched forward again and they were out of it. He thought his lungs would burst, but they kept going—not running any longer; you couldn’t run up a hill like this—slogging, planting one foot after another, after another . . . Roger began to see bursts of light at the edges of his vision; he tripped, staggered, and fell, and was hauled to his feet by Jerry. They were all three half sopping and smeared head to foot with mud and heather scratchings when they lurched at last to the crest of the hill and stopped for a moment, swaying and gasping for air.

“Where . . . are we going?” Jerry wheezed, using the end of his scarf to wipe his face. Roger shook his head, still short of breath—but then caught the faint gleam of water.

“We’re taking you . . . back. To the stones by the lake. Where . . . you came through. Come on!”

They pelted down the far side of the hill, headlong, almost falling, now exhilarated by the speed and the thought of a goal.

“How . . . did you find me?” Jerry gasped, when at last they hit bottom and stopped for breath. “Found your tags,” Buck said, almost brusque. “Followed their trail back.” Roger put a hand to his pocket, about to offer them back—but didn’t. It had struck him, like a stone to the middle of his chest, that, having found Jerry MacKenzie against substantial odds, he was about to part from him, likely forever. And that was only if things went well. . . .

His father. Dad? He couldn’t think of this young man, white-faced and lame, nearly twenty years his junior, as his father—not the father he’d imagined all his life. “Come on.” Buck took Jerry’s arm now, nearly holding him up, and they began to forge their way across the dark fields, losing their way and finding it again, guided by the light of Orion overhead. Orion, Lepus. Canis major. He found a measure of comfort in the stars, blazing in the cold black sky. Those didn’t change; they’d shine forever—or as close as made no difference—on him and on this man, no matter where each one might end up. End up. The cold air burned in his lungs. Bree . . .

And then he could see them: squatty pillars, no more than blotches on the night, visible only because they showed dark and immobile against the sheet of moving water stirred by the wind. “Right,” he said hoarsely, and, swallowing, wiped his face on his sleeve. “This is where we leave you.” “Ye do?” Jerry panted. “But—but you—” “When ye came . . . through. Did ye have anything on you? A gemstone, any jewelry?” “Aye,” Jerry said, bewildered. “I had a raw sapphire in my pocket. But it’s gone. It’s like it—” “Like it burnt up,” Buck finished for him, grim-voiced. “Aye. Well, so?” This last was clearly addressed to Roger, who hesitated. Bree . . . No more than an instant, though—he stuck a hand into the leather pouch at his waist, pulled out the tiny oilcloth package, fumbled it open, and pressed the garnet pendant into Jerry’s hand. It was faintly warm from his body, and Jerry’s cold hand closed over it in reflex. “Take this; it’s a good one. When ye go through,” Roger said, and leaned toward him, trying to impress him with the importance of his instructions, “think about your wife, about Marjorie. Think hard; see her in your mind’s eye, and walk straight through. Whatever the hell ye do, though, don’t think about your son. Just your wife.” “What?” Jerry was gobsmacked. “How the bloody hell do you know my wife’s name? And where’ve ye heard about my son?” “It doesn’t matter,” Roger said, and turned his head to look back over his shoulder.

“Damn,” said Buck softly. “They’re still coming. There’s a light.”

There was: a single light, bobbing evenly over the ground, as it would if someone carried it. But look as he might, Roger could see no one behind it, and a violent shiver ran over him.

“Thaibhse,” said Buck, under his breath. Roger knew that word well enough—spirit, it meant. And usually an ill-disposed one. A haunt.

“Aye, maybe.” He was beginning to catch his breath. “And maybe not.”

He turned again to Jerry. “Either way, ye need to go, man, and now. Remember, think of your wife.” Jerry swallowed, his hand closing tight around the stone. “Aye. Aye . . . right. Thanks, then,” he added awkwardly.

Roger couldn’t speak, could give him nothing more than the breath of a smile. Then Buck was beside him, plucking urgently at his sleeve and gesturing at the bobbing light, and they set off, awkward and lumbering after the brief cooldown.

Bree . . .

He swallowed, fists clenched. He’d got a stone once, he could do it again. . . . But the greater part of his mind was still with the man they had just left by the lake. He looked over his shoulder and saw Jerry beginning to walk, limping badly but resolute, thin shoulders squared under his pale khaki shirt and the end of his scarf fluttering in the rising wind.

Then it all rose up in him. Seized by an urgency greater than any he’d ever known, he turned and ran. Ran heedless of footing, of dark, of Buck’s startled cry behind him. Jerry heard his footsteps on the grass and whirled round, startled himself.

Roger grabbed him by both hands, squeezed them hard enough to make Jerry gasp, and said fiercely, “I love you!”

That was all there was time for—and all he could possibly say. He let go and turned away fast, his boots making a shoof-shoof noise in the dry lake grass. He glanced up the hill, but the light had vanished. Likely it had been someone from the farmhouse, satisfied now that the intruders were gone.

Buck was waiting, shrouded in his cloak and holding Roger’s; he must have dropped it coming down the hill. Buck shook it out and folded it round Roger’s shoulders; Roger’s fingers shook, trying to fasten the brooch.

“Why did ye tell him a daft thing like that?” Buck asked, doing it for him. Buck’s head was bent, not looking at him.

Roger swallowed “Because he isn’t going to make it back. It’s the only chance I’ll ever have. Come on.”

101 Just one chance ~ Written in my own Heart's Blood

#outlander #outlanderedit #outlander starz #outlander series #outlander fanart #buck mackenzie #roger mackenzie #richard rankin #outlander book #outlander books #outlander season 7b #outlander 7x13 #themackenziesarehere

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jedi-order-apologist · 2 months ago

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There's no sun in the shadow of the wizard

Bail and Breha discuss their fears and their hopes under the new regime. Written for Fandom Empire Mahjong 2024 - Prompt: Lost/300 words and Star Wars 100 - Prompt: Child and Lyrical Titles Bingo - Prompt: Free Space ("Stargazer" - Rainbow)

Read on AO3

“I was worried,” Breha admitted, “I kept checking the names on the arrests, wondering when I’d see yours.”

“We were strategic about it, Mon and I,” Bail said. He reached out a single finger to brush Leia’s face, and she shuffled in her sleep in Breha’s arms. He’d already explained everything to his wife that he couldn’t over comms. “I’m sure Palpatine has his suspicions, but we weren’t the visible face of his opposition. He expects the arrests will serve their purpose to make everyone else fall in line.”

“Far too many will, I’m sure.”

Bail closed his eyes briefly. “We saw the signs. We made our preparations. And yet there’s still a part of me that can’t believe this is the situation we find ourselves in. The people offered up the Republic on a platter. And now, so many lives lost, and so many more I know we will lose. Dark days are ahead, Breha.”

She fixed him with an earnest look. “We will not let that stop us.”

“I had no doubt of that,” he said, a hint of a smile returning to his face as he met her gaze, before returning his attention to the child in her arms. “All is not lost. It never is, as long as we keep hope in our hearts. But there’s work to be done if we’re to keep the memory of the Republic alive, and disrupt the Imperial effort. I can only hope that there will be enough of us.”

“More will come,” Breha said, and leaned against Bail as he tenderly took Leia out of her arms, careful not to wake her. “We all have our part to play.”

“Empires fall in time. We may not live to see it, but let our efforts be enough that Leia will.”

#we'll see a rainbow rising #bail organa #breha organa #leia organa #peppermint writes star wars fanfic #triple drabble

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quinacridonered · 3 months ago

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ROP Recap - Season 2, Episode 5

Ring of Power: Wear meeeeeeee!

Entire World: Don’t wear it!

King Durin: *wears it*

Prince Durin: Dad?

King Durin: SIRE! Dig over here.

Prince Durin: Sire! Who is also Dad! You’ll bury us!

King Durin: Get out of my way or I will bury *you* specifically.

Sun Shaft: *emerges*

King Durin: If you don’t do what I tell you, our previous falling out will be your best family memory.

Prince Durin: This seems like a lot even for you.

Celebrimbor: Work party! Dwarves and elves! Awkward standing around! Mediocre beverage!

Sauron: Too bad about that First Age wine.

Celebrimbor: ’Tis a loss for the world.

Sauron: You know what will fix it? Rings for Men.

Celebrimbor: Not this again.

Sauron: I already put on a Broadway-level production to convince you. Are we gonna have to upgrade to Vegas?

Celebrimbor: If we give humans anything, it should be something like Xanax.

Sauron: Have to do everything myself around here.

Assistants: We'll help!

Celebrimbor: At what point did I completely lose control of my own ring factory?

Sauron: Probably back when I wandered in wearing Halbrand pyjamas.

Pharazon: If a mob made me king, does this constitute a democracy?

Miriel: We should ask the eagle.

Pharazon: The eagle has already spoken.

Eärien: Dad? You are demoted.

Elendil: This is the kid I’m stuck with.

Miriel: Wow.

Elendil: You should have seen her as a teen.

Dwarf Business Improvement Association: What news, King Durin?

King Durin: I give you magic rings. You give me half your money.

Dwarf Business Improvement Association: This seems like a lot even for you.

King Durin: Dig, motherfuckers! DIG!

Disa: We’re digging too much.

Prince Durin: I thought you wanted him to?

Disa: Consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds.

King Durin: I’m proud of you, my son!

Prince Durin: You’re right. He’s off his rocker.

Invisible Mirdania: AAAAAAAAH!

Celebrimbor: On the plus side, now we know how to make rings of invisibility.

Visible Mirdania: The unseen world sucks and I want to unsee it! What was that demon?

Sauron: Your boss.

Mirdania: You mean you?

Sauron: Your other boss.

Mirdania: Obviously.

Prince Durin: The ring you gave us is fucked up.

Celebrimbor: Did you fuck up the ring?

Sauron: Is it me who is a lying liar?

Celebrimbor: …No?

Sauron: Is it you perchance?

Celebrimbor: …Yes? Oh god, what do I do?

Sauron: Make more rings.

Celebrimbor: Obviously.

Sauron: Thank god, your prefrontal cortex is no longer working.

Kevin: Guards! Rough up the faithful!

Valandil: Or we could rough up Kevin.

Kevin: *kills Valandil*

Elendil: My son-in-law, everyone.

Kevin: To your chagrin and mine.

Sauron: Can I play with your hair and pretend you are my ex?

Mirdania: You are beautiful, good at smithing and 600 meters tall. You can do whatever you want.

Eregion Industries HR Department: Would you like to report workplace harassment, defined as vexatious conduct that is known or reasonably ought to be known to be unwelcome?

Mirdania: To be perfectly honest, he is welcome to vex me straight into next week. Or next fiscal year, for that matter.

Sauron: Noted.

HR Department: We tried.

Galadriel: A star shines upon me taking you hostage, asshole.

Orc Daddy: Ex-of-Sauron Support Group is now in session.

Galadriel: He’s not my ex!

Orc Daddy: Does the thought bring you relief and regret in vast and equal measure?

Galadriel: Crap. It does.

Orc Daddy: Welcome to the group, Galadriel.

---

More recaps:

Season 2, Episode 1

Season 2, Episode 2

Season 2, Episode 3

Season 2, Episode 4

#rings of power #the rings of power #trop crack #trop season 2 #trop spoilers

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starlightsreigns · 1 month ago

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finally getting around to writing and editing a roman series, and I'm so excited for everyone to see it... so here's a quick sneak peek. this from a random chapter. a lemonade series ; coming soon x

The water felt warm against my skin. If today’s the day I was to die, I’d be at peace, right here, in the ocean. The sun warms my stomach as I float lazily. In the early mornings, the beach was thankfully empty enough for me to completely wipe my mind of all the pain, anger, and hate that filled it.

A sigh escapes my lips when I open my eyes. The stars are still semi-visible even with the now-rising sun. This was perfect. How can I ever go back to my reality where everything is now a mess? How can I face everyone who seems to know the truth – even if they don’t utter the words aloud. We all know.

“Mellie,” His voice echoes around me.

I wish it was his ghost, but I know it’s him in the flesh. The waves around me flutter with more force. His voice louder now.

“I knew I’d find you here,” He speaks softly. “I called this morning.”

My eyes slowly close when I feel his arm on my shoulder, “Please, I’m trying to find myself.”

Roman doesn’t say anything else for a while. We watch the sun come up, and for the first time in months, we’re one. I want to give all the thanks to the ocean, that’s what’s bringing us together. But, can I accept that? This can’t be how it ends, and unfortunately, this can’t be where we bridge the gap in our separation.

Back on the beach, I wrap myself in my towel and take a seat on the now warm sand. Much to my dismay, Roman sits down beside me.

“Mel, please.”

There’s a part of me that wants to fight. It wants to continue screaming and pushing, but the other part is tired. I finally meet his eyes with a sad sigh. His eyes are big, and they’re pleading with me. So for the first time in a while, I crack under the pressure.

“Losing you will kill me, and I’ll regret this for the rest of my life,”

soooo excited and i've come up with a new aesthetic that'll debut with the series. see u soon! xx

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puhpandas · 12 days ago

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Noticing how mxes is resisting/looks upset when it basically got kidnapped, do you think it’s AI could also have realistic emotions just like the glamrocks? It’s hard to be sure because if we’re going off with the theory (basically confirmed) that mxes existed in the 70s/80s I don’t know if tech that high would exist by then. Maybe Vanessa and Gregory upgraded it/programmed it to be like the glamrocks?

I love the idea that mxes is even a little sentient. I think they would have less range of emotion than the glamrocks, because the glamrocks visibly went insane after being stuck in the pizzaplex for like a year while mxes (if it was 3 star fams van) was trapped in the factory for like 60 years before getting taken and looks like they're fine

I think mxes would be the earliest example of a sentient ai (besides the mimic), because the funtimes were def sentient with no possession and that was like the mid/late 80s (in sl)? the funtimes felt pain and had the desire to leave and could plan and think and manipulate, but I think mxes is sentient enough to be able to think and want things but they just want to fulfill their purpose.

like, they could be sentient if they were updated I think, at least more than before, but I think they're a more simplified version of the kind of sentience the funtimes and glamrocks had. they're way more sentient youd ever expect a rabbit ai from the early 80s to be, but they arent borderline human like Freddy. they still have Robotic/digital qualities that Freddy would lose, and clearly seem content in ruin just sticking around there to keep the mimic trapped. that's why I think they have simpler wants and dreams than the glamrocks and funtimes. they were created to keep the mimic at bay and enjoy that purpose, while freddy was created to perform and be the face of Fazbear but he eventually grew to hate it

but anyway I think its totally capable of being sentient on it's own with fnafs track record of sentient robots/ais in the 80s. but I also dont think 3 star would update them to be more sentient bc. mxes wants what they want. and it isnt cruel to keep them how they are, and would probably be risky editing their code and programming since it's so old. theyd probably want to keep it anyway, in case mxes has old knowledge about mimic they dont. it's not for a sinister reason, but they DID take them to put in the pizzaplex to keep mimic trapped so. and with how 1 of 3 members is a robot that grew out of his purpose I think they wouldnt want that to happen. but mxes seems to want to anyway and their goals line up, so I think they wouldnt have done it

#i love u mxes ur so interesting #so fun to think about them #i neeed to draw them #m.x.e.s #thoughts #pandas.txt

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prettypumpum · 2 months ago

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Title: Crossed Dimensions I Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You were living an ordinary life until the day a portal throws you into the Marvel universe. Trapped between an unbearable Deadpool and a Wolverine as troubling as he is charming, you discover powers you didn't know you had and an unknown past with certain heroes. As your anxiety grows in the face of this new reality, will you be able to find your place and perhaps become the hero they need?

Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence.

Previous part / Masterlist

Chapter 2

“Rise and shine.”

I jolted awake to find Wade’s face uncomfortably close to mine.

“Why don’t you just teleport?” the mercenary asked, visibly disappointed.

“I don’t know, Wade, I can’t control my powers. But believe me, it’s in the top 5 of my to-do list,” I replied, getting up from the couch and rubbing my face.

“Leave her alone,” Logan grumbled from the kitchen. I joined him, grabbing the cereal box on the counter. I didn’t even recognize this brand. This universe was so different from mine. Oddly, the most disturbing part wasn’t that the Avengers existed or had superpowers, but rather the little details, like different logos or stores and restaurants in completely different locations.

“Do we have oat milk?” I asked, staring at the strange tiger on the box.

“We don’t even have regular milk, so forget your fancy whims, princess,” Al replied, fiddling with a small bag of white powder.

Great, so no milk, but we still had hard drugs. At least the household priorities were clear.

“We’ll add it to the shopping list,” Wade grinned, grabbing a small notepad and a unicorn pen.

“And with what money?” the old lady asked, outraged.

“About that, I was waiting for everyone to wake up,” Wade said calmly, fixing his gaze on me to emphasize that I was the “everyone.” “I called one of my contacts, Dopinder, and he found us a mission for our team!” he added enthusiastically, clapping his hands.

“What team?” Logan asked, clearly already on edge.

“Ours,” Wade replied, pointing at Logan and me.

“Hell no, I’ve got my own plans,” Logan growled, getting up to rinse his coffee mug.

“And what, you’re just gonna go back to living in the wild forests of glorious Canada like an animal until some old Japanese guy tries to steal your powers?” Wade asked.

“That’s exactly my plan,” Logan replied, not understanding half of what Wade had rambled but clearly wanting to end the conversation.

“I knew you’d be hard to convince, so I prepared a little PowerPoint,” Wade said, opening his laptop to show a slide titled, Reasons to Convince Logan and Lydia to Be My Best Friends (And More if We Feel Like It).

“Reason 1,” Wade said, pressing a key, triggering a star transition so tacky even Al cringed. “You’d really make me happy.” The image showed a little cartoon Deadpool hugging a tiny Lydia and a tiny Logan. “Number 2,” another horrid transition, “Disney saw the money they made off of us and they want a sequel, maybe with a love story. Reason 3: if you don’t come, you’ll ruin the whole team-sandwich aesthetic. People won’t get it if we lose the mustard,” Wade explained, outraged.

“I’m done with your nonsense,” Logan groaned, heading towards the bathroom.

“Reason 69: we’re out of booze and you’re out of cash!” Wade shouted, frantically looking for slide 69, which featured a little Logan looking delighted at a giant whiskey bottle.

Logan seemed to be weighing his options, but they weren’t any better than mine. He rubbed his temples, finally relenting.

“Fine, alright,” he grumbled as he walked into the bathroom.

Wade couldn’t have been happier. He was literally bouncing with self-applause, then turned his gaze to me.

“I have another PowerPoint for you, in 130 parts,” he said, searching through his files. “Here it is,” he said, opening a file titled, My Super Arguments for a Threesome with Logan and Lydia, Part 1: I Have Lots of Fun Toys. “Oops, that’s not it. You saw nothing,” he said to the wall.

“Why do you even want me to come? I’ll just slow you down.”

“Logan’s the muscle, you’re our emotional support, and I’m our brave and fearless leader, not influenced by Captain America at all,” Wade said as if it were obvious. “Come on, it’ll be fun. And most importantly, we need cocaine for Al; trust me, this place will get unbearable without it,” he whispered like it was a terrible secret.

I had two choices: go on this mission and, at worst, get shot, or stay stuck in this apartment with a coke-addicted grandma going through withdrawal.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

“Great!” Wade cheered. “You’ll see, it’s going to be awesome.”

Honestly, I doubted it.

It was not awesome. I’d been stuck in this damned forest for hours. At first, everything was fine. I’d met Wade’s smuggler friend, who talked way too much, and the mission was simple: we had to take out a drug lord with a bounty on his head. But we hadn’t expected the guy to be armed to the teeth with alien weaponry. We found out the hard way after Wade mocked the boss’s haircut, and the guy fired a laser that left a huge hole in Wade’s abdomen. Logan barely had time to grab him, and I managed to teleport us into the forest. The problem was, we didn’t know where we were and had lost track of our target.

“Do you smell anything?” I asked Logan.

“They’re not nearby. We can rest while this idiot regenerates,” replied the mutant, still on guard.

He didn’t seem bothered by the surroundings; his powers helped with that. Wade, on the other hand, still hadn’t regained consciousness. Watching his broken body was both fascinating and gross.

“Did you talk to Laura last night?” Logan suddenly asked.

“Yeah, we chatted a bit… she wants to spend some time with us,” I replied, a little uncomfortable with this conversation. Co-parenting was challenging enough, but adding a multiverse element made it insane.

“I know, she told me,” Logan replied. “If you’re not comfortable with it, don’t feel obligated.”

Honestly, I wasn’t comfortable with it. I started fiddling with my coat sleeves, avoiding eye contact, and instead focused on Wade’s wound.

“No, it doesn’t bother me,” I replied in a small voice. “But this whole situation is completely crazy.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, smiling.

He was really handsome. I’d never been a superhero fan, but I’d always had a crush on Logan, and seeing him in real life was pretty overwhelming. The TVA had offered to send me back to my universe, but I’d refused. That would’ve been even weirder—to be in a world without mutants, with teleportation and healing powers. That would complicate things, especially if I lived as long as Logan.

“I’m sorry for getting us lost,” I said, lifting my head. I couldn’t control my powers, and I didn’t even know if Dreamwalker was a real character in the comics.

“It’s alright. The most important thing is that you got us to safety. And the real problem is this idiot. He’s the one holding us back,” Logan said, pointing at Wade. He hadn’t enjoyed the plane ride, and it was a miracle Wade’s buddy was still alive.

“Do you still want to finish this mission?” I asked, a bit resigned.

“Damn right, we’re finishing this mission!” said a voice behind me. “Look at what he did to my suit. I just patched it up! People have no respect,” the mercenary said, examining the damage. “And look at you, Mr. Grumpy—there are bloodstains everywhere. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get that out of this beautiful yellow suit I just stitched up?”

“By the way, how did you fix it? Because from what I remember, there was nothing left to save,” I asked.

“For convenience, I’d say it’s magic, even though I know you loved the old suit, you little pervert,” Wade replied.

I couldn’t help but lower my head, blushing. I could feel Logan’s eyes on the back of my neck. It was true, I’d had trouble forming a complete sentence after he’d disappeared.

“So, what’s the plan now?” I asked, hugging myself and trying to change the subject. But Wade kept staring, and even under the mask, I could guess his little smile and nonexistent eyebrow wiggle.

“We’re gonna kill that guy, then celebrate with mojitos. Come on, gang!” Wade said, clapping his hands and starting to walk.

I shot a small glance at Logan, who hadn’t taken his eyes off me.

“We’ll finish our conversation later,” he said. I nodded in response. “Not that way,” Logan yelled at Wade.

“I know, I was testing you,” Wade said, turning back. “Is it this way? No question, I totally know where I’m going.”

Logan groaned but followed Wade. It was the first time he’d gone this long without trying to maim the mercenary. And honestly, I already pitied the guy with the ridiculous haircut and his henchmen.

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the-tropes-are-hungry · 7 months ago

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4 - The Cat Laughs

I don’t have a clue how long this Cat – Worm – Lamb pattern will hold considering the story I want to tell but for now it’s a good frame to work from. Have a cat in a hat with a spider and a squid.

[First] / [Prev] / [Next]

Shamura was never kind to him. It took him years to understand their concept of kindness was something else entirely.

A crown did as much as its bearer allowed, but the spider forbade him from using his to curb hunger, or stay sleep, or anything else truly useful.

“You are not yet grown, therefore have no true grasp of your abilities.”

“Then let me use them.”

They looked at him with their too many eyes and his vision fizzed. The shadows of thoughts, the web of impenetrable life woven around Shamura like their black and gold armor, the unflinching stare. Narinder was a predator in his own right, but they were something else.

Shamura was seated at the low table in their tent, discarded maps and the remaining bones of their dinner resting next to candle stubs. Narinder stood in the doorway where he’d burst in, and the spider remained perfectly still as they regarded him.

“Why?” they asked.

He stared at them, clutching his young anger.

“What do you mean, why? Because we’re fighting a war— because we’re losing one!”

Shamura watched him, listened to him, and answered with: “Our standing in this conflict is my burden, as our supplies are Kallamar’s, and growing is yours. Why should I let you use your crown when I do not believe you are ready?”

Ears back, his words keened past his fangs. “Because it’s mine.”

“It is yours,” the spider agreed, holding one long hand over their tea and calling the tiny ceramic cup into their grasp. “But that is not a reason to use it.”

“I don’t need a better reason.”

“You do, if you want my permission.”

“I don’t need your permission!”

“You do,” they squeezed the cup and his ears popped at the pressure change, black ears pressed to his skull and half-sheathed claws now soft against his palm. Shamura blinked slowly, one eye at a time from left to right, then right to left. “You do, if you want to leave my web alive.”

The entire camp was their web. Narinder had felt it after waking up the first time, sensed it without really knowing what about the ground upset his fur, why his whiskers twitched at every tent door and post, why his vision doubled and the stars moved too much at night.

He’d experienced it the first time one of Shamura’s soldiers, a beetle of all carapace and no sense, threw their meal on the ground and declared they’d had enough of rancid flesh and deserved something better.

The beetle had spasmed as, from everywhere and nowhere, silk threads snapped tight and pulled their limbs back before they could curl into a protective ball. Their glossy chitin didn’t mean anything as Shamura’s slow steps made the beetle’s heart quicken, then race, then thunder in Narinder’s ears. The spider had walked as slowly as possible to give every onlooker time to find a place to witness their judgment. One blue finger had trailed up from trembling thorax to mandibles, and the slender demigod rose up on six legs to tower over their prey.

“Very well,” they’d said, and a silk wire lopped the beetle’s head off. Several more tightened around still-squirming limbs until they detached. All Shamura visibly did was wave a dismissive hand at the wrist, and their web deposited the open body on the fire, belly up, for the camp cook to decorate with salt and herb and oil and simmer with his own armor acting as pot and pan to serve him.

It had been, Narinder hated to admit, one of the best meals they’d had since his arrival.

Shamura’s threads were already in his fur. They touched his wrists, his ankles, trailed against his black robe and irritated his whiskers. There was no tension in them, just the ghostly presence holding his chest and winding around his tail.

The spider sipped their tea.

“You are not yet grown, Narinder. I do not mean this metaphorically: your kind do not come of age until they are ten and six years old, but the males do not reach their true strength until twenty and eight. If you will not tell me why you must rely on your crown before you are ready, will you heed my reasons why you shall not?”

Shamura had already made up their mind and even the best reason in the world would not sway them. Still, to stop the growing pain in his throat and the burning in his eyes and the pressure in his nose, he bared his teeth again.

“When my mother taught me the sword, she gave me a sword to practice with.” The mere mention of her hurt. Speaking of her was like licking glass, or breathing fire, or being forever in this world without her. “I’m not saying let me fight the Green-Eyed Queen myself, but you’ve got to let me learn!”

Shamura nodded, but he swore the wisps of web grew thicker.

“The words you are looking for are, ‘I am afraid, and believe a better weapon will keep me safer.’”

They stood up, four legs moving sinuously beneath their black robe, four arms folded politely in pairs as they drifted across the tent toward him. One set of hands parted and they rested one cold palm against his bristled cheek. They had too many eyes and he never knew which ones to look at.

“If I clothed you in the strongest armor and then struck you one hundred times a day for one hundred days, it is true that you will stop fearing my blows and focus on hitting back. But if there is one day, not of your choosing, where I would make those hundred strikes on you without your armor, what would happen?”

His vision was blurring again, this time with frustration. His throat was growing tighter and it wasn’t Shamura’s silk. His chest and arms were trembling and the spider hadn’t struck him once.

“I would die.”

Shamura nodded, and released his face.

“That is why I will not let you use your crown to hold back sleep, because already you do not sleep enough. And I will not let your crown suppress your hunger, because you do not eat enough. And I will not let the crown make you stronger, or faster, or anything else you desire, because this weakness is born of things no crown can fix. You must train your mind. You must grieve your loss. You must let your body grow, child. Return to your duties.”

Duties. All Shamura had him do was practice symbols in wax and ink, and read the same marks off paper and metal. He was to learn the stars by different names, and the plants in their times and properties, and the many lands by their rulers and laws. Narinder’s duties were to grow his mind and eat hearty off the army’s stew pot, as if he were some kind of pet in the spider’s keeping.

He left with rage pulsing under his skin, humiliation turning his fur up as the silk whispers of the camp kept sticking to him, thickening around his ankles until he could almost see the strands. He sped up, all but ready to begin dashing past soldiers, and barracks, and cook fires and—

“There you are.”

His body stopped. A shimmering blue light encircled him and his muscles couldn’t move, his momentum halted. A webbed hand pressed warm to his shoulder before Kallamar’s spell vanished, and the third crown-bearer in this camp steered Narinder off his path between another set of random tents and tables, the squid’s long face pulled in an affable smile.

“Bold of you, to challenge Shamura directly,” he chittered. Narinder was only half-grown, but Kallamar was only just taller than him, too long, too nothing beneath his robes. “I can see how that went by the look on your face. No—don’t stop, be mad. Get it out. You can’t close a wound with the knife still inside.”

“What do you want?” Narinder asked, teeth clenched, whiskers flared as he kept walking and Kallamar kept pushing.

“To stop you from ending up on a spit,” he said. “Shamura is unkind, but rarely unreasonable. Come, running off will get you in trouble, but I’ve prepared something for you.”

Shamura and Kallamar had journeyed together for two years now, amassing followers and striking out at the Green-Eyed Queen’s champions: the Seven Toed Oak, the Marble Tongue of Dawn, and Ashblight. Shamura’s real target was the Wrath-Bringer, for their own reasons. Kallamar had come from the white waters of the Serpent, and beyond Shamura’s trust in him that was all Narinder knew.

Most of the followers in this camp were the spider’s. Kallamar’s followers were weepy-eyed creatures that hissed at the sun and plied their master with even more miserable gurgles than what Kallamar paid the spider.

There was something the Green-Eyed Queen possessed that Shamura wanted before taking their campaign elsewhere.

The mobility of Shamura’s forces was crucial, as staying overlong in any one place cleared the trees, dirtied the water, and ate the land barren. Never-mind counter attacks from the Queen’s champions.

Narinder had been with them a month. During the four battles this army of two hundred followers had fought he’d sat at Shamura’s heels with clean claws and sheathed blades and a leash short enough to call a belt-loop. Every time he saw Kallamar, the Serpent’s exiled son was either flustered with the logistics of keeping this army fed, or impatiently keening at Shamura to send Narinder out of earshot so they could speak.

The cat and the squid had never been alone together before now.

“Hurry up! Hurry up! I think you’ll hate this until you learn to love it.”

Narinder’s tail kept lashing. “You have the worst way of saying things.”

“Do you know what’s more fun than having a shard of the Serpent’s power sitting on my head?” Kallamar asked, the membrane of their face bubbling with their words as they tapped their crown.

“Leaving me alone?”

“Having my own power to wield as I like.”

Kallamar brought him to a freshly cleared bit of forest at the edge of the encampment. Fresh stumps littered the ground like boils, sweet sap still bleeding from the saw-marks. The squid kept giggling to himself, but trying to hide it with his mouth closed. The hrm! Hrm-hrmhrm!! Was enough to make Narinder’s claws itch. He’d never eaten squid before.

“First! An exercise I’m sure you’ve done before!” Kallamar wiggled his way forward and called back to him. He shook out his robe sleeves, getting shorter and squatter as his upsettingly fluid physiology squirmed around under his bipedal guise. With a delighted gurgle, he rose up and spread three tentacles from each sleeve, raising his new arms up with a flash of white.

Ten liquid bubbles gathered from the sap and soil, hovering over the stumps. “Ten seconds to destroy them all! Have at ye, young demigod!”

Narinder stared. “What?”

“Ten! Nine!”

Oh, he meant it.

Narinder’s reflexes were sharp, his legs always half-wound springs that sent him flying at the first bubble with claws out. Its skin was tougher than expected and his lead claw curled past it, but the dew claw on his smallest finger snagged it right and tore the bubble open.

A grotesque sploosh of half-warm-too-cold gelatine that sluiced down his leg and stayed there.

“What is this!?” Narinder shrieked, his voice splitting like hairs as his tail bristled.

“Six!! Five!”

He spun with three darts in hand that burst three bubbles, and vaulted another log with a hand at his sword to tear another. That made five, with only—

“Three! Two!!”

“Kallamar!” he roared back, his sword coated in the same blue ick as his robe and hand.

“Ding-ding-ding!! You lose!” The squid trumpeted, throwing his head back with laughter.

Lost? He’d lost? Narinder never lost anything. He never failed anything. He couldn’t lose a game like this—one of speed and reflexes and sharpness, no!

“Again!” he shouted.

The laughing stopped. “Again?”

“Start it again!” He stomped his foot, sword dripping, his leg and hand so cold they felt numb.

“Hmm!” the squid put four hands to his wide chin, pouting. “Maybe! But I want my prize for winning first.”

Narinder stiffened, ears swivelling, weight on his toes. “What prize?”

Kallamar’s face split with far too many teeth at far too many angles. Narinder was a predator in his own right, a killer and a hunter, but his fur went rigid at the sight.

“Here, kitty-kitty, dodge this!”

The first unpopped bubble sailed straight at him. Narinder twisted with a yelp, but another crashed the back of his head and erupted with cold slime down his shoulders. He screamed. It didn’t hurt—it was cold and slick and horrible but it didn’t burn or bind or harm him, and the lack of danger made his screaming worse when he took two steps and was slammed at the knees by another bubble that took out his legs.

The last two pelted his back, one and then the other, and left him in an inch-deep puddle of viscous blue slime.

He pushed his face up, spitting, the fur on his cheeks dragging down long, his whiskers coated so thick he could barely breathe, his ears dulled with gelatine.

He was so fucking cold.

Kallamar was laughing to the cloudy sky overhead, the drip-drip of his tentacles slithering over the trampled grass.

“Oh! What fun, your poor face!” he cackled, wiping one webbed hand under his eyes to stop the tears.

Narinder bared his fangs, felt the cold slick trickle into his nose, and sneezed so violently his back arched.

Kallamar doubled over, wheezing, his eyes bulging in delight.

Narinder was cold, he was embarrassed, he was sopping wet. He was a month without his mother and denied his own power. He was stuck in a puddle of slime on a bright spring day with the sun parting the overcast sky and birds were singing and Kallamar was laughing and they were too far away from the edge of camp for anyone to see or hear them.

Narinder grabbed the tentacle that counted as Kallamar’s ‘foot’and yanked it. The squid yelped and tumbled down in a glorp. Before he could think twice or Kallamar could get away, Narinder slapped a handful of muddy slime in the other demigod’s mouth.

The sound Kallamar made was worth the laughter that burst out of Narinder. His goopy tail coiled around his bent legs as the alien sound scared his ears back and he reigned it in quickly, afraid of—just afraid.

Of Shamura? Of dying? Of the Green-Eyed Queen? Yes.

As quickly as he’d laughed, tears cut through the frigid slime, like embers down his cheeks.

His mouth trembled, spit and slime on his lips. He couldn’t breathe.

He would never see Mother again. She would not groom this ick off his fur, or run her claws over his ears, or warm him with her purr. Her tail would never twine with his, and she would not pick up his blade and hand it back, and she would not be with him, and she would not come back.

And Narinder was her Lord of Lords but he was twelve years old and frightened and alone and he had never been frightened and he had never been alone and he had never had to decide what to do and he had never been told what he could not do and—

“Me too.”

Narinder was sitting in this puddle sobbing like a kitten, and he couldn’t close his mouth or stop the sounds or the tears from hiccupping out of him. When Narinder looked at Kallamar, he expected everything except the broken hinge of the squid’s mouth, or the thick-rolling green slime that counted as his tears.

“I miss everything too,” he said. “Everything from before… this.”

“W-what happened?” one lost little boy asked the other.

“The Serpent was afraid of something,” Kallamar explained, his own tears rolling into his mouth. “They called everyone in to their temple, but I got caught in the tide pool that morning and couldn’t answer the gong. I watched the waves turn red, and the sea boiled, and then everything went dark. By the time I got out there was nothing left at the seabed, just this—this hole. Like a storm beneath the sea. Everything was gone. The coral, the vents, the sand, the kelp. Just dark water too scary to swim through, so I didn’t. They’re still down there, I think. They keep pulling everything inside, and Shamura thinks one day they’ll swallow the whole world.”

And that, two small children in two large crowns decided, was too much for them to think about.

They cried until they couldn’t cry anymore. This left Narinder only wet and too cold, and Kallamar dry and too hot, so when the cat scraped one hand down his slimy sleeve he smeared it on the squid’s ugly face.

This made Kallamar laugh.

“Here,” he said, taking Narinder’s hand in two of his. “Let me show you what I brought you out here for.”

It was a spell. A little mote of magical light between his tentacles that drew the wet ick from the fur and fabric down his arm. He wasn’t quite clean, but he wasn’t wet either.

“Now you try. But not with this,” he pointed at the crown. “Just this.”

He tapped Narinder’s forehead, where the fizziness and shadows and double-vision kept coming from.

“This is where your magic will manifest. It means you aren’t like other cats, so even without your crown you’re still something different, something else.”

“What else?”

Kallamar shrugged. “Whatever Shamura and I are. Demigods, they say.”

They practiced the spell together. It was finicky, but only difficult until Kallamar talked him through the noise in his own mind. They pulled the slime off his fur and ears and tail and clothes, and with the last of it the squid gurgled shyly in his throat.

“There was one other thing,”

“You have more one other things than you do arms.”

“No, this is actually it,” he bubbled. “You’re something else. You’re something between Shamura and I. You see, their body is hard and spiny on the outside, protected even without the armor they wear. Then there’s you, who grows your bones inside your body with the soft parts outside—which is bad design, really. You’re very poorly made.”

Narinder showed his teeth. He flexed his claws too. “As poorly made as a bag of water?”

Kallamar held up another bubble of slime. “I’m not afraid to use this.”

The cat relented.

“My point is,” Kallamar continued, holding the bubble in their lap and slowly running their tendrils over and around it, peeling off slime to slick themselves after sitting so long on the prickly grass beneath the blazing sun. “Neither of us can fight like Shamura. But you don’t have your own magic, and I don’t… Well, I know lots of magic. I know spells, and enchantments, and incantations, and charms, and curses. And you…”

Narinder followed the squid’s eyes this time, and snatched up Mother’s sword from beside him.

“No,” he said.

Kallamar quickly folded himself on his ‘knees’, leaning forward. “I don’t mean give me your sword, just practice! Or your knives? I saw you practicing with a rope dart the other day and it was so fast! Imagine if you could sling spells the same way, and I could carry a sword—or a staff. Can you use a spear?”

This felt… not allowed. It felt like breaking one of Shamura’s rules. Kallamar had real duties to the war, counting food and provisioning armor and setting up where tents could go and tables set up.

But Mother had always protected him, and Narinder had never had someone boldly ask him about what she’d taught him. “I… can?”

“What about a javelin?” Kallamar asked, eyes now alight. “A glaive? Shamura has a glaive, you’ve seen it, with the gold blade and obsidian handle?”

“I have.” He had. And he’d also seen… “…their sickle chain is faster than my rope dart.”

“It is!”

On that day, two boys made a pact with each other. The older would teach the younger magic, and the younger would teach the older weapons. Through their web the spider heard all of this, even the part where they struck a bet to see who would get to hold their glaive first. It made them smile.

To Shamura’s surprise, it was Kallamar who won the bet.

Surprise became wonder, as Narinder’s Third Eye opened right as his oath-brother raised the gold blade.

Somehow, both these achievements mattered more to the Demigod of Victory than the fact that they had just been split open, mandible to abdomen, by Champion Ashblight.

“Shamura?!”

“Shamura!!”

It was a good day to die.

[First] / [Prev] / [Next]

I HC Kallamar is like 15/16 at this point.

#Estrangement AU #cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl narinder #cotl shamura #cotl kallamar #ty to Ghosts-and-Glory for their shamura design #haha cliffhanger you're so funny #time for SIBLINGS #Shamura for best/worst mentor #Love me a lawful evil paladin

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sincerelyhannahx · 1 year ago

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To celebrate Asexual Visibility Week (which Happy Asexual Visibility Week by the way omg), here is a list of characters who are now asexual because I said so:

Crowley and Aziraphale (Good Omens) I mean, this is basically canon for me already but their relationship genuinely means so much to me because it's not inherently romantic or sexual or even strictly platonic, they just have such a strong emotional bond and love each other in a way that I think could only be asexual. And being fairly new to my sexuality (not even a year yet) I really needed that. Maybe I don't want an allonormative relationship - maybe I just want what they have. Idk they're just really special to me.

Belle (Beauty and the Beast) Belle being ace removes the beastiality aspect of the story so I think this is best for everyone involved. (This goes for Tiana too, actually - ace!Tiana, let's go). But she literally fell in love with the Beast because of his personality alone after spending a long time getting to know him (and because of a library but ykw me too girlie). And it helps that I've had a strong attachment to Belle since like forever (I actually played her in a school production when I was 6).

Peter Pettigrew (Harry Potter) Right, so I do hate Peter and I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to, but omg he is so asexual. And definitely not saying that asexual people are going to betray and murder their best friends but I feel like not fitting in with his very allonormative group and maybe not even knowing what the term asexual means could be an interesting motivation for his actions. Peter feeling like he's broken somehow for not feeling what the others are feeling, thinking there must be something wrong with him since everyone else is falling in love, viewing himself as unloveable because platonic love isn't enough when everyone else has a brilliant romance, turning to the Dark Lord because he's been left behind but maybe this will fix him... and then losing that platonic love too and realising he didn't need fixing after all and his friends were enough, but now it's too late. So, anyway, ace!Peter makes me sad.

Katniss Everdeen (The Hunger Games) "There's never been anything romantic between Gale and me." This is 100% because Gale is a walking red flag but I'll take it as an aroace thing too. “Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me any time you feel like it.” The fact she didn't fall head-over-heels in love with Peeta as soon as he said this is honestly all the evidence I need. Also trying to act like you're madly in love with someone? I know it was for survival but, again, I'll take what I can get. "What I need is the dandelion in the spring... And only Peeta can give me that." This is not an allosexual relationship, I will not change my mind. Personally, I think Katniss is probably demisexual and I love her for that.

The Doctor (Doctor Who) If I had a nickel for every time David Tennant played an 'immortal' genderfluid asexual non-human who loves the stars and humanity, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice. But, yeah, the Doctor is asexual, that's just canon for me (and David Tennant said it too soooooooo).

Zoe Nightshade (Percy Jackson) The Hunters of Artemis are a sisterhood that requires you to swear off love and relations with men. Oh no, what a sacrifice! Come to think of it, she also has a connection to the stars - this is becoming a recurring thing.

Artemis, Athena, and Hestia (Greek Mythology) The fact there is a trio of asexual goddesses will never not make me so happy. In the Homeric Hymns, 5, To Aphrodite, Aphrodite is described as having "no power" over these three, which basically just confirms what everyone was already thinking. Artemis is quite literally the Maiden Goddess, who asks her father, Zeus, to forever remain a virgin and protect those who wish the same. Athena never took on any lovers (and in the Percy Jackson series, her children are conceived through her thoughts and born in the same way she was). And Hestia just wanted to be left alone with her hearth, also never marrying or having children.

Barbie (Barbie) "To do what?" Girlie literally has nothing going on down there (for the majority of the movie, idk what happened at the end) and doesn't understand why Ken wants to stay over because they're girlfriend boyfriend. The point of the Barbies is that they show women can be everything so, legally, no one can stop me saying she's an asexual icon.

Regulus Black (Harry Potter) I apologise to all the Jegulus stans out there but you can pry Regulus from my cold, dead hands. Asexual and Bi/Pan friendships are my absolute favourite (shout out to me and my bestie <3) and that is exactly what he's got with Pandora. Also, after Sirius was disowned, the responsibility of continuing the Black family line would fall to Regulus and that aroace pressure makes for some beautiful angst. And it means he's okay with sacrificing himself because at least he won't have to force a life he doesn't want. Why does the Marauders era always turn so sad so quickly?

Inej Ghafa (Six of Crows) Again with the Asexual and Bi/Pan friendships - I'm really just projecting myself and my best friend onto Inej and Nina, but who's going to stop me?

Elsa (Frozen) and Merida (Brave) Watch out, Disney; I'm coming for all of your princesses. I'm putting these two together because they could be asexual but I could also see them as lesbians - or maybe they're both.

Charlie Weasley (Harry Potter) He is the blueprint. Mum wants me to get married and settle down? Yeah, okay, but have you heard about dragons?

Newt Scamander (Fantastic Beasts) He is also the blueprint. Yeah, okay, but have you heard about every beast to ever exist ever?

I could keep going but I won't (for now). But honestly, we need more asexual characters in media because we're so underrepresented and it's such a serotonin boost. Like in S4 of Sex Education, I actively gasped and had such a big smile on my face when O came out as ace (at the representation, not the being forced to come out). Anyway, Happy Asexual Visibility Week!

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lavendermin · 1 year ago

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busy. try again later | welt yang

pairing | welt yang x reader

wc | 2.6k

genre | fluff, implied secret relationships, lighthearted banter

warnings | suggestive but nothing explicit, pregnancy, written following the pov of Stelle around the express, welt is railing your stars on the down low

Idleness. Boredom. It left Stelle a little fidgety when there was a slight break from major tasks. The Astral Express was currently stationed near Jarilo VI for a quick visit. No major missions were queued up and if she counted all the visible stars outside the window of the main parlor car for the 44th time she would surely lose her mind.

‘I should go check with the others. Maybe there’s something I can do… or risk losing my mind like this.’ Stelle hops off the parlor car seat and heads toward the passenger cabin.

A soft knock to the first door. No answer.

“This is technically a public room on the Express. You don’t have to knock every time you stop by,” Dan Heng responds flatly without looking up from a few open books on the table.

“It's still your room,” Stelle counters with a shrug, eyes skimming the room curiously.

Dan Heng lets out a quiet sigh that ends in a chuckle. He turns to look at her fully, arms crossed over his chest. “Something on your mind?”

“Just checking in. Need any help?”

“No, I’m busy but it would take longer to explain than the task would take. Try March. She wanted to head into Belobog to restock on some supplies while we’re still here.”

With a nod Stelle turns to head out of the data bank. Dan Heng watches the door slide shut, letting out a quiet exhale before getting back to the various books he has to sort through for information.

Oddly enough, Stelle finds Himeko standing just outside March’s door speaking to the newest Astral Express member. They don’t seem to pay Stelle any mind as she walks over.

“Are you sure? It would make a lovely walk,” Himeko offers. You shake your head and offer an apologetic smile.

“No, no, I’ll be okay. I’m pretty busy today with some… errands,” you reason, hands tugging and fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I’ll go next time.”

Himeko relents and sends you on your way. You quickly disappear down the hall toward the passenger car over where your room is. “Stelle, would you like to join March and myself on a quick trip to Belobog?”

She nods with a small smile. “If you’re not heading out too soon I’ll join you.” There were still a few others Stelle wanted to check in with just in case. You said you had some errands to do today so maybe Stelle could help.

Understanding her current little task, Himeko assures Stelle that they’ll be heading out in about an hour so there’s not much of a rush. March has been known to take a little longer than most at getting ready if it’s just a casual outing. The soft music and humming coming from her door gave way to the fact that Himeko had been waiting for longer than originally planned. She stays for some idle chatter to help Himeko kill some time as she waits before continuing down the rooms.

The door all the way at the end of the hall— Welt Yang’s room. Stelle gives a firm few knocks.

Silence.

She tries the door but, as always, it oddly doesn’t even budge an inch. He might be elsewhere on the train or engrossed in a new book so much he didn’t hear her knock. Well, it’s not like he usually needs help. More often than not Welt is the one offering help to those that approach him. Best to leave it at that for now. There was an attempt at least and that sat okay with her conscience.

Onto the cart over, your room is the only one in use save for the guest room just next to yours that will occasionally house a visitor. Stelle approaches and knocks.

There’s muffled shuffling on the other side and a hasty, ‘Just a minute!’ The hand that was reaching for the door handle pauses and instead Stelle waits patiently for you to answer.

The door slides open just enough for your breathless face to come into view. “Sorry I was, uhm, reorganizing my room a bit. It’s a mess,” you chuckle apologetically.

Stelle quirks a brow at your slightly disheveled appearance when you step outside into the hall and shut the door behind you softly.

“If you’re moving furniture I can help. Don’t hurt yourself,” Stelle offers with a kind smile. As much as you appreciate the offer you quickly shake your head.

“No, no, I’m fine. Almost done putting stuff away. Thank you for the offer anyway. If you’re looking for something to do, Pom-Pom might need help now that I think about it.” You quickly divert the conversation. “He was looking a little troubled the past couple of days.”

That being said, the conductor always has something troubling them. Pom-Pom was a busy bee every day keeping the Express in top condition and takes pride in doing so. Still, it didn’t hurt to check on him before heading out with Himeko and March.

You wave your brief thank you and goodbye, a polite yet nervous smile on your expression. Stelle subconsciously makes note of the way you don’t head back into your room until she leaves. Everyone on this train has secrets and with you being the newest member of a few months, she couldn’t fault you for being a little more reserved as you got adjusted.

And just as you said, Stelle comes across the train’s conductor who is uneasily sweeping around the parlor car to keep busy. Even the slight tap of the conductor's hat to get their attention makes him yelp before realizing it’s just Stelle and not whatever terrifying end Pom-Pom thought was finally catching up to him.

“Stelle…” Pom-Pom clearly looks uneasy and distressed.

“Something on your mind?” Stelle asks.

Pom-Pom glances around, looks behind some chairs, under a table, and hobbles back over to Stelle. The little conductor’s face scrunches in thought.

“Lately, Pom-Pom can’t help but feel that there’s something that changed on the Express. Like there’s another faint presence at times.” A look of fear crosses his face and Pom-Pom gulps down a few stray scary thoughts. “Stelle, do you think a ghost could have followed you onboard in your travels?”

She looks around. One end of the cabin is empty save for Dan Heng who heads out of the Express alone. The other end is just as desolate— not a single movement.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Stelle notes. “Are you sure it was a presence you felt? Have you been sleeping well?”

The conductor stomps his little foot down angrily. “H-Hey! Pom-Pom knows what he felt! Sleep is not the issue,” the little rabbit argues with a huff. “But, please go take a look around the Express and make sure a stray animal or something didn’t get on board accidentally.”

It really was strange if what Pom-Pom is saying is true. Generally, Stelle is quick to pick up on something amiss but nothing has seemed out of the ordinary lately. Still, to give Pom-Pom the ease of mind she takes another more thorough look around the parlor car. Nothing under the seats, hands swatted away from Pom-Pom’s plant, not a sound or sight out of place.

Stelle turns to the conductor who has started trailing behind with concerned eyes that shift around the room. “Pom-Pom, do you feel this presence right now?”

He takes a moment and scans the room, then shakes his head. “Well, no… But what if it’s hiding? Waiting for an opportunity to eat a tasty conductor?”

“Like a giant space rat?” Stelle quips with a laugh.

Pom-Pom lets out a whimper. “Hey! Stop trying to scare Pom-Pom!”

She puts up her hands defensively with a chuckle. “Alright, if you don’t sense it here maybe we should look around the other cars to figure it out,” Stelle suggests.

Though uneasy, Pom-Pom agrees. “Okay, but if something attacks it’s your job to protect and save Pom-Pom!”

Stelle agrees if only to calm down the fidgety conductor.

In the first passenger cart Himeko and March are now chatting among themselves about their plan for the outing. Nothing out of the ordinary so far. Stelle takes another look around with Pom-Pom in tow.

“Any presence here?”

The little rabbit shakes his head. “N-No… But Pom-Pom swears it’s somewhere!”

“Did you lose a button again, Pom-Pom?” March asks curiously as the two look around the cart.

Stelle shakes her head, quickly explaining the situation to save the conductor some stress. At this point he’s practically glued to Stelle’s leg, eyes shifting to and fro.

March forces out a shaky laugh that only gives way to her nerves. “Oh, haha… A space rat wouldn’t be on the Express… I hope.”

And maybe everything at once was a little too much for the little conductor. So much that he momentarily snaps. Which isn’t too extreme given Pom-Pom’s stature. “Stop, stop! Pom-Pom did not sense a space rat!”

It’s lighthearted banter at best between March and Pom-Pom. Just enough to at least alleviate some tension from this little unsolved train mystery. Stelle is in the middle of brainstorming any other possible reasons when the other passenger car door opens down the hall.

Your head peeks out to assess the situation, clearly on alert due to the loud bickering. As soon as you see the group down the hall you let out a little sigh of relief and head over.

“What’s all the commotion?” you ask Himeko.

She offers a shrug and a hand gesture that indicates it’s nothing too big of a deal. And it would seem that way, that is until Pom-Pom lets out a shriek.

“Th-There it is!” he yells, jumping behind March and Stelle. “The presence came in with Y/n!”

All eyes are on you and you’re hopelessly teetering between confused and dreading the next moments.

“The presence came in with Y/n,” Himeko muses calmly. She lets out a sly little chuckle, one that knows too much while keeping a perfect poker face. “Pom-Pom, do you think perhaps the presence is with Y/n?”

The conductor finally peeks from where he hides, uncovering his eyes. “O-Oh. Pom-Pom didn’t think of that… Passenger Y/n,” the rabbit starts as he cautiously waddles over to you. “Please hold still.”

Oh no.

Oh no. Oh no.

You don’t even get a word in. The tiny robot that Pom-Pom uses is quicker than you can register as it gives a brief scan of your form. The conductor is silent as his eyes quickly scan the data displayed on its tiny screen. The little gasp he lets out only further forms a cold sweat down your neck.

“Passenger Y/n… you’re carrying a tiny being,” Pom-Pom finally announces with a look of awe and confusion.

“Please don’t call it that,” you interject with a nervous laugh. “It’s just a baby Pom-Pom.”

March is the first to snap out of the momentary shock, her jaw dropped. “What?! You’re pregnant?! A baby?! Since when?!”

“Calculated to be an approximate nine or ten weeks of development so far,” Pom-Pom clarifies, eyes glued to the data.

“And there you have it,” Himeko concludes. “Our little mystery is solved for the presence Pom-Pom felt. I’d say that’s excellent teamwork as always from our Astral Express family.”

And it seems to be a satisfying enough conclusion for Pom-Pom thankfully.

“Well if there’s no real danger to the Express, Pom-Pom will be leaving. There’s much to do!” And with that the little conductor scurries off to the main parlor car.

The passenger car door shuts and March is immediately an explosive flurry of questions. Her insatiable curiosity leaves her speaking faster than she can really stop to properly think through. She’s next to you in less than a second, her hand gently on your stomach as she looks from your barely-noticeable bump to your uneasy expression. The questions are nonstop and practically all in one breath, one after another.

Did you know? When did you find out? Are you dizzy? Eating enough? Any pain? Have you contacted Natasha yet for a checkup? Any names? There’s an audible gasp as March pauses with a new train of thought, or maybe to take in air after the barrage of questions.

“Who’s the father? Don’t tell me it’s someone on the Express,” she interrogates further. Your nervous smile and avoidance of eye-contact is all the body language she needs to confirm her suspicion.

You push her away gently, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed by all the questions. “March, p-please. You don’t have to worr–“

Amidst the chaos of the new shocking revelation, Dan Heng returns from his unannounced outing. March is quick to snap her gaze at him. It only takes a split second for her to put two and two together in her mind.

“Dan Heng… you jerk!” March lunges at him, shaking his shoulders wildly. “Not using protection?! Are you serious right now?! Are you even supporting her at such a crucial point in her life?! You better not run off and ditch her because I’ll find you and drag you back frozen if I have to!”

It’s comedic, despite the chaos, how expressionless but uncomfortable Dan Heng looks right now. He just lets March give him an earful before prying her hands off of him.

“March. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just got back,” he explains calmly.

The tears of passion and frustration are brimming on March’s eyes. You can only watch the scene unfold with mild unease, a hand protectively on your belly.

March huffs with a pout, hands on her hips. “Y/n is around nine weeks pregnant and you are hardly any help.”

“Wait, March—“ You try to stop her, face warm with embarrassment, but she’s too caught up in her passionate berating to listen.

March and Dan Heng are bickering back and forth without end when the door to the second passenger car opens soundlessly.

“It’s not me. And it’s not my problem if you don’t believe me.”

March lets out an exasperated groan. “If you haven’t noticed, there aren’t that many guys on the Express. I just don’t see how–“

“Is there trouble?” Welt interrupts as he comes up behind you and Himeko. He looks to the latter for explanation but she can only let out an amused chuckle. The knowing glint in her eye has you swallowing a whimper.

“March,” you start, face growing warmer by the second as you try to stop her to no avail. But everyone notices it— the way your body instinctively turns toward Welt.

March halts, voice growing smaller by the second as the words come out. “If it’s not… Dan Heng…”

Everyone watches as March reassesses her thoughts in real time now that Welt is there. Slowly the truth unfolds and you watch as her eyes grow wider by the second, jaw dropped.

“Mr. Yang?!”

The older man seems taken aback by her sudden exclamation. He looks to you for further explanation but you’re too flustered to speak. Your silence and averted gaze only further confirms March’s new theory that you two were sleeping together… and for quite some time now.

“Will someone care to explain what’s going on?” Welt asks with a sigh and pinch to the bridge of his nose.

There’s a chuckle that comes from beside him as Himeko interjects. “It seems our crew just found out about the result of your many little… escapades. But,” she continues, “We’re all adults here. Everyone’s private matters are to be respected. And we will all receive the future little addition to the Astral Express Family warmly.” She shoots a meaningful look at March, Stelle and Dan Heng.

They all nod solemnly.

“Oh,” Stelle begins with a look of realization. “So that’s what you two were doing when I stopped by her room.”

#welt yang x reader #mii writes #cw suggestive #cw pregnancy #fluff #need welt to rail my stars too

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