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sambethe · 7 years

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EC FF: Without Saying Goodbye

A/N: For @piratesbooty63fan, who requested a canon divergence scene of what might have happened if Lucas wasn't Glinda's husband and he was with Dorothy when she returned to the farmhouse after escaping Glinda's palace. This is probably a lot sadder than you hoped. I’d say sorry, but canon made me do it.

(BTW, ask box always open for Emerald City writing prompts. I’m opening on pairings or writing gen.)

Words: 1900 | Rating: PG | ao3

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“You were quiet on the ride.”

Dorothy sat on the bench beneath the window, idly petting Toto who was curled next to her, head perched on her lap. She shrugged at his words, but otherwise didn’t turn from staring out into the distance beyond the window.

Lucas bit back the frustrated sigh he wanted to give and instead turned his attention to the wrecked room that surrounded them, working to clear the floor of debris in order to make room to right the table.

“You couldn’t force her to leave,” he said after a while, “she wouldn’t have allowed it. The other girls wouldn’t have allowed it.”

He started at the hollow thud of Dorothy’s boot kicking at the wood front of the window seat.

“She’s just a little girl. She shouldn’t have to be a pawn in a war.” She kicked her heel at the panel again. “There shouldn’t have to be a war.”

“It’s not yours to decide. She’s where she belongs.”

She huffed and Lucas turned to the upturned chairs, righting them and pushing them off to the corner of the room. When he cleared enough space, he glanced back to Dorothy, finding her still on the bench but staring at him rather than out the window.

“Help me with this table.” He nudged his chin at where the table sat on its side.

“What?”

“We may be here a day or two, might as well make it so it’s livable.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but stood, hesitating a moment before she stepped forward. She walked towards the far end of the table, keeping herself out of his reach as she did. He stood at the opposite end and gripped the table’s edge. Once she mirrored him, he slowly counted down from three.

Once the table was righted and she stepped away, Lucas stepped into her path as she made her way back to the window. He caught her wrist as she started to side step him and tugged her to him, wrapping his arms around her as she fell against him. She stiffened in his hold and he bit back another sigh, missing the easy nature that existed between them before they stepped foot within Glinda’s palace.

Yet another thing taken, he thought as he nosed at the side of her head, taking in the scent of her hair. After a few moments, he whispered her name against her temple.

“You shouldn’t have stopped me. I could have convinced her, or at least gotten her outside and shown her –”

He soothed his hand down her arm and gave a small smile, mostly for himself, when she appeared to press into his touch. “Leith’s where she belongs.”

Dorothy pulled back but not away, glaring up at him.

“You can’t mean that. None of those girls belong there, to be used like that. To be cast aside when pushed too far.”

“Do you think your Wizard is any better? Do you know what he’s done to this land, to these people, in the name of his Science?”

“Do you?” she bit out, yanking her arm from where he had gripped her and stalked away.

Lucas cringed and stepped back. His memories were still difficult to parse, to sort those that were truly his from those imposed by Glinda’s magic.

“We should eat,” he offered to the back of her head, watching her until he saw the slight nod of her head as she returned to staring out the window. “I’ll go see what I can catch.”

It was dark by the time he returned, a brace of rabbits in hand. He had taken more time than was strictly necessary. He had walked the long way along the edge of the farm’s fields on his return, trying to tamp down his anger, still unsure who it was most directed at –Glinda, Dorothy, himself.

Dorothy had started a fire while he was gone, and she and Toto were curled together on a pile of pillows she had gathered to the side of the hearth. He stood in the doorway and watched them, wanting desperately to crouch down and join them. Wanting to have Dorothy’s thigh press against his, her warmth seeping through the fabric of their trousers to his skin. To have her tell him more tales of Kansas, to be able to now share some of his own in exchange. To be reassured that they were in this together. Whatever this was.

“Are you going to come inside?” she asked, her hand steadily petting Toto as her eyes remained focused on the flames.

He nodded and clomped his boots against the door’s threshold, shaking loose some of the caked-on mud before toeing them off and pushing them into the corner. Padding towards the kitchen area, he went about dressing the rabbits, working quietly as Dorothy hummed a tune he didn’t recognize.

Leaving the game to roast on the fire, Lucas stripped off his leather coat, dropping it and his sword to the bench of the window seat before settling down on it himself.

Dorothy reached out a hand but he didn’t move. “Come here,” she said after a moment, shuffling to make room for him within her nest of pillows. “I don’t want to fight,” she continued once he dropped to his knees next to her, his hands braced on his thighs. She reached out again and slipped her hand around one of his own, lacing her with his. He squeezed back, offering her a small smile before shifting to move closer to where she sat.

“How do we go forward?”

She shook her head and offered him a sad, half smile. “I don’t know.”

He reached out, running his fingers beneath her jaw, his thumb swiping at her chin. He smiled back as she tilted her head towards his hand, moving so that his hand ended up tangled in the hair at the base of her skull.

“How about we eat and then get some sleep? Maybe it will clear our heads,” she said after a few moments.

He nodded and let out a deep breath when she sank into him, her head resting on his shoulder. He snaked his arm around her waist, his hand settling at her hip while hers crept around his stomach before winding in the fabric of his shirt. Not wanting to break the spell of the moment, he began to tell her a story of how he learned to hunt small game. How he would tag along after his cousins, trying to remain unseen, until eventually they would call him out. How they started to complain when he began to outpace them, despite them having showed him how to wield a knife.

She laughed when he told her of how they once threw him into one of the small rivers, and he smiled at the sound of it. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as his fingers began to play with the edge of the thin undershirt she wore.

Once they finished dinner and the few dishes they found unshattered were washed, Lucas sat down once again next to her. He wound his arm around her, pulling her to him so that she settled between his legs, her head resting back against his chest. He slipped his fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, drawing his fingers along the soft skin he found, but not wanting to press his advantage for more. Not with her warm against him, the weight of her hand wrapped around to the back of his thigh a welcome comfort. It was more than he knew he deserved, especially with all that he said – all that he had done – while they were within Glinda’s walls.

They sat in silence as they watched the firelight die, the only sounds the pop of the occasional ember and their soft breathing.

“We should get some sleep,” Dorothy whispered, brushing her hand over his on her stomach.

Lucas nodded, shifting back and letting her go. He didn’t follow as she stood, and she turned and raised her brow to him in question. “I meant for you to come too,” she said, and held out her hand.

When he still hesitated, she sighed and bent down, taking his hand and tugging on his arm to encourage him to stand. He complied, handing a few of the pillows to her once he was upright. “We may want those,” he said. “Let me tend to the fire and then I’ll join you.”

Dorothy didn’t answer, but took the pillows he offered and made her way to the ladder leading to the lofted bedroom.

He took his time tending to the fire, banking it in hopes it would last them the night. He also hoped his delay would mean she was asleep by the time he followed her to the loft, wanting to delay until morning the argument he knew would need to be continued. But as he climbed the ladder and the room came into view, he found Dorothy awake and waiting for him.

She was stripped down to just her shirt and underwear. He eyed the long line of her bare legs, the shadows cast by the candle next to the bed flickering across her skin.

“Dorothy,” he whispered and took a step back.

She shook her head and leaned forward, reaching out her hand as she did downstairs. “Please, don’t go.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, stopping himself from taking another step back.

She reached down, tugging at the ends of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. Once she dropped it to the floor, she looked up at him. He swallowed hard enough to feel his throat bobbing as she firmly held his gaze.

“There will be time tomorrow to argue,” she said, reaching back to open the clasp of her bra. “Can we just have this tonight?”

She could hear Lucas’ soft snores from where she sat on the stop step of the ladder. She knew she needed to go, that she would need as much of a head start as she could get if she wanted to reach Emerald City without him catching up to her. But instead of moving, she watched the candle light that remained play across his chest. The sputtering light caught on the red and blond tones of his chest hair, highlighting them, causing them to glow before falling into shadow again.

His words from their first stay in this house echoed in her head.

There’s only one person I fight for, since the moment we met. And you for me. Remember?

She wished she could still believe those words, could trust they were on one another’s side.

She sighed and grabbed her flannel, slipping her arms into it before crouching up enough to turn and creep down the ladder. Reaching the lower floor, she grabbed her bag and jacket and tip-toed to the door, grabbing hold of the knob and turning it slowly. She held her breath as she pulled it open, hoping the hinges wouldn’t squeak and give her away.

She glanced back, eyeing the ladder one last time, and whispered, “I wish you could come too,” before slipping through the door and pulling it shut behind her.

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Tagging @fairytalesandtimetravel, @captainswanandclintasha,& @sybbelle, so I can spread the heartbreak around.

#emerald city #emerald city ff #dorothy x lucas #knock knock #kansas knight #my ff ec #prompt me

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slimacwrites · 7 years

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Who’s There (An Emerald City Fanfic)

A spec fic of what would happen if Lucas was forced to send Dorothy back to Kansas after she’s badly hurt but first manages to record her a message to explain and remind her that everything was real.

Here you go, @fairytalesandtimetravel! Your plot bunny actualized! It’s not exactly the same at the end but I hope it pleases you anyways. This was really fun to write. Also, can someone tag @spartanguard because my tumblr won’t let me and they wanted to be tagged!

Winds whipped around the city square, picking up debris and slamming it against the stone facades of the surrounding buildings. Somewhere in the distance a woman screamed, a remnant of the fear the Beast Forever had created within Emerald City still holding strong, but the streets were too dark to see anyone who may have made the noise. Not that Lucas cared.

Not when Dorothy laid nearly lifeless in his lap. Fading in and out of consciousness and altering the weather with her responses. A gash cut deep into her gut, the Beast Forever’s final stand before Dorothy blasted it into nothingness in a last show of power.

“She can’t stay here,” Mistress West shouted into his ear from where she stood beside him, studying the swirling clouds above them. West had stood with Dorothy against the Beast Forever, reclaiming the magic she’d dulled with opium for decades, after the Wizard proved completely useless and Glinda shadier than an oak tree. The battle had been relatively short once Dorothy and West began but it had been violent. Too violent for Lucas to do much but survive.

Lucas didn’t need to ask what West meant. Not when she was so carefully watching the tornado Dorothy had called on as a side effect of her untrained power. No. He couldn’t lose Dorothy. Not when she was the only one who’d found him. The one who’d saved him and stayed with him. And now he was powerless to save her, to contain the slowly draining life and return it to her. See those eyes roll and those lips smirk one more time.

Useless. He was damn useless.

Even though he’d told Dorothy he wasn’t normally so useless, one of the first things he’d ever said to her.

He was a liar too then.

“Can’t you do something?” Lucas asked, feeling that desperation quell up in him as he held Dorothy tighter against his chest.

West shook her head, turning from the clouds to examine the widening pool of blood under Dorothy that would surely stain the cobblestones for weeks. “Nothing I could guarantee. I’m not that kind of Witch. Not after years of not using magic. And the Wizard took all of Glinda’s girls- no way we could get to the dungeon in time and still save Dorothy.” West almost sounded sorry, features twisting a bit as her hooded eyes once again looked to the swirling clouds and debris filled winds. “But since she already called the tornado- I can bring it down so it can catch her, send her back. It should take her to Kansas since it brought her here. Spells have a sort of memory with that. Her people can save her.”

Memory. And Lucas was not a part of that memory. Lucas was from Oz, had never seen Kansas, even if he carried one of it’s towns name. Lucas might throw it off. Reduce the chance of the plan’s success. Of Dorothy’s survival.

There was no question then. Lucas heaved himself to his feet, holding Dorothy’s limp body against his chest. Wetness seeped through his own clothing as he did so but he tried not to concentrate on how much he was covered in Dorothy’s life.

“Set her down over there,” West instructed, pointing at a space that was away from them.

Every step felt like his own gut was being opened. He hated himself for how much he didn’t want to lay Dorothy into the tornado and send her back. How much he wanted to keep her with him, even as her ruby red blood dripped from his fingers. How much he didn’t say to her. How much he should have. Consequences be damned.

But there was always someone to save. Always someone who wanted them dead.

Never time to say the words he wanted to. Ask for a future he desperately dreamed off.

Lucas reached the spot West had instructed him to leave Dorothy and he laid her down as gently as he could, slipping the long tweed jacket from his shoulders to cover her body like a blanket. She didn’t even respond. Lucas watched her, kneeling beside her, trying to memorize the face he’d come to hold so dear. Wishing he could tell her he-

“Lucas! Get out of the way! I need to bring down the tornado now!” West shouted from behind.

Then it hit him. How he could tell Dorothy what she needed to know. Ensure that she knew she’d never be alone so long as he was breathing.

“I need one second!” Lucas hollered back, moving to lift the coat from Dorothy. Her music box. Phone. Right, phone. When she’d played him those songs she’d showed him how to take a picture and a video, though the concepts still baffled him at times. There was a picture of the two of them captured on that little box but he needed to add one more. Lucas located the phone in the pocket of her leather jacket and pulled it out, calling up the needed program. Perhaps it was his desperation that made it work or perhaps the universe had finally deemed it fit to cut the two of them a break.

“Dorothy,” he started, feeling a lump forming in his throat. He coughed gruffly, needing to push through and get the words out. “Dorothy, I am so sorry, you don’t have a lot of time we have to send you back, it’s your only chance. Know that I will find a way back to you, I love you-” The phone screen went black. Cutting off anything else he might have said. Lucas frantically pressed the buttons, but nothing responded, the little machine as lifeless as Dorothy was.

Lucas roared in frustration, angry at himself for wasting time. Wasting words. He didn’t even know why he’d promised to make it to Kansas. If that would ever be possible. Was that time he could have told Dorothy more about why he loved her? That she deserved this chance and happiness? To accept permanency in her life because she couldn’t keep running? Would she even see any of his message? A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Lucas!” West shouted, sounding strained. Lucas waved to her, but never took his eyes off Dorothy. Lucas placed the phone back in Dorothy’s pocket, zipping it up, then placed a soft kiss against her cold lips. And regretted it. Because now the last memory he had of Dorothy wouldn’t be how strong and lovely she was- it would be of how wrong it felt to touch her when her fire was no longer lit.

Lucas scrambled up and back to West. The witch sputtered out words he didn’t understand as the tornado swirled lower, picking up and twisting tendrils of Dorothy’s hair in warning. Just before it touched Dorothy, there was a bark and a brown blur as Toto flew from his hiding space in a nearby building, rushing for his master and climbing on top of her legs like the guard Lucas desperately wished he could be. A moment later the Tornado touched both of them and they were gone.

“I really hope that dog came with her,” West muttered between gasping breaths.

Lucas nodded, relief that Dorothy wouldn’t be alone flooding him. “Don’t worry, Toto did.”

A strange beeping pulled at Dorothy’s consciousness. Her brain felt sluggish as it searched for an answer to the sound. Flying monkey drone? Was West doing something strange? Dorothy pried open one eye then the next, taking in her surroundings. What she saw hit her with a painful clarity.

She was lying in a recovery room in Lucas Medical Centre, Em asleep in a chair at the foot of the bed, Henry’s work coat hanging on a hook by the door.

She wasn’t in Oz.

Lucas wasn’t standing at the door watching over her.

West wasn’t making some snarky comment about how they’d defeated The Beast Forever.

Lucas wasn’t standing at the door.

Lucas was gone.

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away, glaring hard at the tiled ceiling. There was so much she should have said to him. So much she wanted to say still. But she’d been so scared. It had been so easy to pretend everything else was more important, to pay attention to the needs of the rest of Oz instead of telling Lucas that she-

“Dorothy!” Em’s voice broke through her swirling thoughts, bringing her gaze back down from the ceiling to watch her adoptive mother rush to the head of the bed, features pinching when she noticed Dorothy’s tears. “Are you in pain? Do you want a shot of morphine?”

Dorothy wasn’t in pain. She could barely feel whatever injury had brought her to the hospital. But how could she tell Em that? How could she explain that she’d fallen for an amnesiac from a realm that she was brought to in a tornado? But Dorothy nodded anyways, because numb was better than the emotional pain threating her, hearing the little hiss as Em pressed the pain relief dispenser at her side.

“Do you know what happened?” Em asked, bending closer. Dorothy shook her head. She knew what had happened in Oz. She had no idea how she’d ended up in Kansas. “The tornado hit when you went to visit your birth mother. When you didn’t come home we got worried. After the storm passed Henry and I went out there and found you in a field. You’d been stabbed by something in the winds. A police dog was guarding you, barely let us close.”

“Toto,” Dorothy whispered before she could stop herself.

“What?” Em asked, pulling her chair closer so she could seat near Dorothy’s head to hear her better. Dorothy shook her head, telling Em nonverbally to keep talking. “We called the ambulance and they took you into emergency surgery right away. You needed blood and have forty stitches in your abdomen but you’ll be fine. You’ve been asleep for two days.”

Dorothy’s thoughts swam. “So you found me right after the storm?”

Em nodded. “As soon as we could.”

But what about the weeks she’d spent in Oz? What about the days she’d spent in Oz’s wilderness with no one but Lucas and the dog for company? She remembered that. Remembered finding Lucas, tared and feathered in Nimbo. Remembered being Mistress-New-Mistress after killing Mistress East. Remembered the opium laden path she’d followed for days. Remembered making love to Lucas but refusing to think of it as anything but a good fuck. Remembered the planning with Mistress West to Kill the Beast Forever. The boy they’d freed from Mombi’s apothecary and finding out that he was actually a girl, a princess no less. Remembered watching Lucas kill Mombi to save her from the witch’s anger at what she’d done. Remembered the feeling of magic and the feeling of home, somehow tied to Oz. She remembered everything.

And yet nothing seemed possible.

Had it all been a morphine fueled dream?

Had she never actually found someone she actually wanted to stay with?

Had she never had Lucas?

Pain swirled up in her, threatening to blow her apart. If she’d been in Oz it would have released in a magical earthquake. But she wasn’t in Oz. She was in Kansas and no longer knew what was real.

“I think I want to go back to sleep now.”

Dorothy didn’t wait for Em’s answer. Instead she just closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

Days passed in a blur and Dorothy didn’t really care to keep track or participate more than as a passive recipient of explanations of her condition, instructions for release, Ryan’s flirting that paled in comparison to Lucas’s, or at least the man her mind had conjured up. She was told the cops had found Karen’s body in her storm cellar, a dead police officer in her home, and as Karen’s next of kin, Dorothy would inherit the trailer home after the crime scene was cleaned. The police dog who’d been at the scene, Toto (though actually named Thunder), had been retired immediately, refusing to do any tasks. Toto (Thunder) lived with his officer as a pet, though apparently kept running away to Karen Chapman’s land, apparently much to the frustration of his owner and entertainment and curiosity of the town. No one had any idea what had actually happened that night of the tornado. At least Dorothy wasn’t alone in her confusion. But she seemed to be alone in her frustration.

After a week in the hospital Dorothy was released into the care of her adoptive parent’s home. As Dorothy was being wheeled out of Lucas Medical Centre by Henry, a nurse, Maria, rushed up to them with a white bag. “Dorothy,” she started, holding out the bag. “This stuff came in with you. It needs a wash but thought you might have wanted it back.”

Dorothy took it with a dull nod, pillowing it in her lap, not bothering to look inside as Henry began to wheel her to his truck again. Dorothy was quiet the entire ride home, pretending to sleep as they rolled past the cornfields and the sign marked Lucas before pulling into her family home. Henry helped her out of the truck and into the house, Dorothy asking to be brought straight to her bedroom. She wanted the quiet, the peace away from everyone to try and figure out what had happened, what was real.

Dorothy settled in her bed with a sigh. A few moments later there was a knock on her door as Henry reappeared, holding the white bag Maria had given her. “Here, in case you want something.”

She took the bag, settling it on her lap. “Thanks.”

Henry cleared his throat, pausing at the door. “I don’t know what happened, Dorothy, or what you’re going through, but you’ll figure it out.”

Henry closed the door, leaving Dorothy alone. She sighed, shutting her eyes for a moment before reaching for the white hospital bag. Might as well figure out if she could save her favourite flannel shirt she’d been wearing the night of the Tornado and all through her potential Oz dream. Dorothy undid the tie at the top of the bag, confused a bit at the weight of it, before pulling it open.

And losing her breath and control over the tears she’d barely been able to fight off. Because inside the bag, folded at the top wasn’t her flannel shirt. It was a long, tweed coat, far too big for her. Lucas’s coat. Dorothy pulled it out, bringing the rough fabric to her nose. It still smelled of a man’s sweat and had the dirt stains covering it of time spent in the woods, in battle. In Oz. The last time he’d been wearing it had been the battle against The Beast Forever. Had he given it to her before she was brought back to Kansas? Lucas had nearly nothing in the world, memories included, and yet he’d given her his coat. Unable to help herself, Dorothy shifted slowly, grunting a bit at the discomfort her stab wound still caused her, and pulled the coat over her shoulders, sliding her arms into the too big coat.

It was the first time she’d felt comfortable since she’d woken up in the hospital.

The first time she’d felt truly warm.

The first time she’d felt that she was remotely sane and her memories weren’t the result of a fever dream. Because where else would she have gotten the coat?

Dorothy reached back in the bag and pulled out the police jacket she’d worn in Oz. It was disgusting, stained with blood and mud. But it was there. Another element of her memories becoming tangible.

Wait-

Back in Oz, after listening to music with Lucas and kissing him for the first time, she’d wanted to keep her memories so she’d taken a selfie with him.

Was her phone still in her jacket pocket? Dorothy unzipped the pocket, feeling excitement and anxiety well up inside her. This would be the proof. The proof that everything was real. That she’d had Lucas and Oz and a home and adventure beyond her wildest dream. She pressed the home button on the phone but the screen stayed black. Dead. Hopefully just with the battery.

Dorothy cursed before digging around in her bedside table for a charging block, too sore to walk across the room for her wall plug. A few minutes of the phone being plugged into her portable charger and the little apple appeared. Dorothy pulled the coat closer around her as she waited for the phone to boot up. Once the screen had lit up she quickly pulled up her photos app.

And there it was. The selfie she’d taken with Lucas in the woods of Oz, him looking very confused as she grinned beside him.

Real.

It was all real.

But that wasn’t the last entry into the photo list. The last was a solo video of Lucas. She clicked it, confused when he would have filmed it because she was certain she hadn’t. Was it a mistake? Would she get it hear his voice? Dorothy practically slammed her finger over the video, bringing it up and holding it so close to her face that her eyes nearly crossed, as if she could get closer to Lucas by doing that.

“Dorothy,” he started. It was hard to hear Lucas over the swirling wind behind him. He was in Emerald City by the look of the background. Had he taken it after The Beast Forever was defeated? Was it some sort of goodbye message? Lucas certainly looked sombre enough for it to be. “Dorothy, I am so sorry. You don’t have a lot of time we have to send you back, it’s your only chance. Know that I will find a way back to you, I love you-”

And then the screen went black.

I love you.

Lucas loved her.

Loved her.

Dorothy scrubbed tears from her eyes and watched the video through three more times. She hadn’t made any of Oz or the people there up. She hadn’t made Lucas up. There was someone out there who loved her.

And she loved back.

But she had no way how to get to.

Despite her frustration things got easier after she’d found Lucas’s coat and video. Because she was going to get back to him. She just had to wait for tornado season. She was still Mistress East. Somewhere inside her was the power to get back and she was going. She was going back to Lucas. That determination drove her through physical therapy as she healed and the moment she had been given the okay to live alone, she moved to her mother’s abandoned house. Wanting, needing, to be close to where the tornado had picked her up and set her back down. Finding relief in the hundreds of journals Karen had kept, filled with details of Oz and magic and tornado tracking.

Two weeks into her new life at her mother’s old place, there was a barking in the yard. Toto stood there, barking at the door. The moment she rushed from the house, falling to her knees in yard, Toto was on her, yipping and licking at her face. All Dorothy could do was whisper good dog as she was overwhelmed by the creature that had guarded her and gone through two tornados at her side. Another piece slid into place because Toto clearly remembered their time together in Oz. The dog was another affirmation of her time in the land she’d come to think of as home. Toto’s owner had shown up a few hours later to get the dog but had stopped the minute he saw Toto laying on his back as Dorothy rubbed his belly vigorously. Apparently the dog hadn’t let anyone touch him since the tornado. Except for Dorothy. The woman he had protected in that field as the EMTs rushed to her. The police officer had left and returned twenty minutes later with Toto’s bowl and leash and Dorothy had a dog.

The months continued to crawl on. The first tornado of tornado season had hit everyone by surprise, a bit too early for it to be normal, but not that unheard of to be concerning. Dorothy had had no idea how to get to Oz in it, not having got through all her mother’s journals, so she’d hidden in the storm cellar with Toto, eventually falling asleep in it.

The next morning Dorothy and Toto crawled out of the shelter. Dorothy led Toto around the property, checking for damage, lingering near the scarecrow in the corn field as she always did. She could never move past it without being reminded of the man she was waiting to go back to. A melancholy feeling filled her as she trudged back to the property, relieved that there hadn’t been too much damage, just a weird little patch of grass being pulled up near where she’d touched down months prior, but disappointed she’d missed her first chance at going back to Oz. Dorothy wasn’t a patient woman and there was always that lingering fear that the right kind of tornado, or any tornado at all, wouldn’t arrive.

As she often did after she walked by the land’s scarecrow, the minute she stepped into her house, she slipped on Lucas’s coat. It no longer smelled like it had when she first got it, but she still brought the too long sleeves to her nose, comforted by the rough texture as it brushed her skin.

Two knocks sounded at the door. Toto barked, rushing to the sound, tail thumping on the wall.

“Who’s there?” Dorothy called, moving to the door.

“Someone who’s still uncertain at how this is a joke.”

Dorothy nearly ripped the door from it’s hinges as she opened it to reveal the man she’d been so determined to get back to, looking rather wind whipped. Lucas grinned at her.

Know that I will find a way back to you. Lucas had kept his promise. Somehow, someway, he’d gotten to Kansas. To her. At that point it didn’t matter how. Just that he did.

I love you.

Dorothy stepped into his space and pressed her lips hard against his. When she pulled back, she grinned up at his dazed expression. “Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” Lucas asked, still baffled by the joke, but gamely playing along.

“I saw the video.”

Lucas sputtered at her words before giving her a careful look, unsure of how to continue the joke.

“I saw the video, who?” Dorothy prompted, squeezing his arm.

“I saw the video, who?” he repeated.

She grinned and pulled him into the trailer home. “I saw the video, and I love you too.”

#dorothy x lucas #kansas knight #dorcas #emerald city ff #slimacwrites

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andyousaidtruelovedidntexsist · 7 years

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Emerald City Fanfic List

into the abyss, only for you, my darling

not little red riding hood

Alright so I am making this list because I am notoriously disorganized... and if I ever want to find the above fanfics again--well, putting links to both of them on one page seems like a swell idea. I’ll get around to putting both of them on A03 in the next couple of weeks. I hope.

Either way I will be adding to the above links. Currently planning out a Snow White! Au with Lucas as Snow White. (I am still figuring out the other details.)

I want to thank everyone (again) for all of the attention that “into the abyss, only for you, my darling” received!! Its at 33 notes right now, and I am sooo... stunned, thrilled, flabbergasted (but the good kind) and just really happy and excited that so many people have enjoyed it!! :D :D

#emerald city #my emerald city fanfics #writers thrive on feedback #you lovely lovely people #thank you so much!!#My day #my month #to be more exact #has been made #33 notes!!#That is a really really really big highlight #!!!#and it gives me something to go off on #because I have a little more of an idea of what I did well #and I also appreciate the feedback where you guys tell me where improvements can be made #just so you know #you people are really really wonderful!!!!!!#emerald city ff #emerald city fanfics

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vinkunwildflowerqueen · 6 years

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The bottom answer made me laugh.

Also, can someone who understands economics write a Wicked/WoO FF about the EC being audited? I’m intrigued now.

Source

#Wicked #Wicked FF #fanfiction #Wizard of Oz #Emerald City #economics

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robotnik-mun · 3 years

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Got a hypothetical for you: through some multiversal storm or some other hand wave, AoSTH and SatAM Robotnik end up switching places and now have to deal with their respective counterparts version of Sonic and Mobius. What happens?

Hmmm... lemme think.

Okay, it'd probably go something like this-

AoStH Robotnik in Satamworld would be pretty troublesome with access to Robotropolis and the rest of Robotnik's empire. Snively would probably initially attempt to rule through the guy, but he'd swiftly be put in his place, and probably find himself missing the old Robotnik given how Adventures-nik is not only bad tempered, but utterly and totally unreasonable at that.

While AosTH Robotnik isn't exactly harmless or stupid (Mass Transit Trouble, anyone?), he's still a LOT more childish than his SatAM counterpart or even Dr. Eggman, and as such his priorities with his newfound empire won't be put to the best use- I can imagine shortly after realizing he's hit the jackpot, he immediately begins sending his forces out to build statues of himself everywhere. The Freedom Fighters naturally are swiftly alerted to bizarre activity coming out of Robotropolis, and are shocked to find a weird doppelganger of Robotnik running the place.

In the inevitable clash AoStH Robotnik proves himself to be pretty homicidal, but ultimately nowhere near as canny as his SatAM counterpart, and as such Sonic and the FFs have an easier time dealing with him. There IS one troublesome aspect to things though- THIS Robotnik's irrationality makes it hard to really guess how he'll proceed with things, and his unwitting willingness to do damage to Robotropolis itself if it means getting at them makes things dicier for them than you'd think.

Meanwhile in the Adventures-verse...

Robotnik finds this version of Mobius annoying. Just being there is giving him a migraine. Once he realizes what's happened he sets about trying to find a way to get back to his Mobius, but also does research on the new world to gauge it and how conquerable it might be- it is for the most part a pristine version of Mobius with resources ripe for taking.

Once he figures out how to work it, he puts AoStH Robotnik's robot making machines to pretty terrifying use, building an army and roboticizers in short order and sending them out into the surrounding areas en-masse, with the intent of building a new Robotropolis and a portal back home so that he might rule BOTH worlds. One of his first actions as well is to scrap the Dumbots, their ridiculous idiocy taxing his limited patience within only a few moments.

It is in fact this action that first alerts Sonic and Tails to the fact something is very amiss on Mobius, and with Von Schlemmer's help they rebuild the dumbots and learn about what's going on. Sonic is at first flippant, given how used he is to the usual Robotnik, but soon he finds out that he and the rest of Mobius are in a world of trouble as organized Swatbot armies begin to swarm everywhere. Sonic and Tails do their best to stop him, but they're pretty much pushed to the brink as well as learning the hard way that THIS Robotnik is very different from the one they're used to, and the usual tactics just aren't going to cut it.

After that things go as you'd expect- Von Schlemmer builds a portal to SatAM Mobius, and thus the Freedom Fighters are able to lend Sonic and Tails there a hand. SatAM Robotnik finally meets his AosTH counterpart and tricks him into helping him build a machine that will draw the Chaos Emeralds into the present and then double crossing the guy to become Supreme High Robotnik himself. The twin Sonics however are able to triumph, and SatAM Robotnik is beaten back, while AosTH Robotnik's attempts to take over the facilities and robot armies Robotnik built are shut down before he can get anywhere. In the immediate aftermath Julian is sent crashing down to Mobius... and happens to land in Mama Robotnik's cell, where he is forced to endure the same horrors as his counterpart.

After letting him suffer a bit at the hands of Mama Robotnik, the two Sonics drag him back to the portal and say their goodbyes as they do a Robotnik switch. While once they are back home Julian manages to escape captivity, he is dismayed to return to Robotropolis to discover its in a state of disrepair thanks to his counterpart, meaning he has to focus on rebuilding his capital city over trying to fight the Freedom Fighters.

And so things return to normal for the Sonics and their friends.

Or something like that, I would imagine.

#Sonic the Hedgehog #SatAM #AoStH #Dr. Robotnik

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abbystarling · 3 years

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All set up at Emerald City Comic Con! I’ll be at table FF-13 along with my friend Sophie 💖 Excited to see you all again!!

#emerald city comic con

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sailtoafarawayland · 3 years

Text

Through the Window (Entwined Series)

Summary: Stilling his own breath, Hook disregarded the rustle of the trees in the wind and listened more intently, straining to hear what he thought may have been the dulcet tones of – a slow smirk pulled at his lip, the rogue in him stirring, and his gaze swiveled back toward the grey house behind the white fence, the sound drifting toward him from an open window near to the ground.

Series Information: A series of connected one-shots following the polyamorous relationship of Emma, Killian, and Hook. Each piece can be read standalone and is non-linear, but together will reveal some backstory and how these three came to be. Tags/warnings that are specific to each piece will be posted at their heading, but it is safe to assume all of them will contain both M/F/M and M/M (unless otherwise noted in the tags). If this is not your thing, carry on. If you would like to be removed from my tag list, please let me know. Keep in mind, I maintain one list for all of my work.

Rated: Explicit

Relationships/Tags: M/F, Emma/Killian, Voyeurism, Voyeur!Hook, Canon Divergent

AO3 - FF

Through the Window

Despite his many years spent aboard a vessel at sea, Hook still hadn't adapted to the strange unsteadiness and disorientation that portal travel entailed, stumbling a bit as the spinning vortex heaved him forward, his boots catching on rough ground and nearly sending him to his knees before he managed to find his balance once more. He darted behind the nearest cover as soon as his head ceased spinning, scanning the immediate vicinity to ensure he hadn't been seen.

Behind him the portal had already blinked out of existence, any chance Hook had of returning to his realm vanishing along with its light, but the moon was full and bright overhead, making it easy to discern that he'd traveled into some sort of town. Buildings as large as manors faced one another along a street composed of a flat stretch of odd, black stone, and ahead of him squatted a white fence that bordered a small length of it. The gate was open, and beside it loomed the dark shadow of a tree, adorning the corner of the yard that boasted a large, grey house with white columns.

From within its lower windows came the soft, steady glow of a lamp.

Though he'd traveled between several realms in his many years, this place felt entirely foreign to him, every turn of his neck giving him yet another strange contraption to ponder – but through it all, the wind was still carrying the smell of the sea to him on its back, and that would always be a small comfort that reminded him of home.

Standing in the darkened street, he was left wondering just what in this realm was supposed to lead him to a cure for his poisoned heart – back to his Alice – as the Seer had promised. With no direction or further knowledge to guide his choice, he decided to follow the road between the rows of houses until he met something more like a tavern or market, perhaps there he would be able to glean some useful information.

He was about to set out when a sound caught his ear and he paused – uncertain that had heard correctly.

Stilling his own breath, he disregarded the rustle of the trees in the wind and listened more intently, straining to hear what he thought may have been the dulcet tones of – a slow smirk pulled at his lip, the rogue in him stirring, and his gaze swiveled back toward the grey house behind the white fence, the sound drifting toward him from an open window near to the ground.

The logical part of him was chiding that there was no purpose in lingering in this place, but something in his gut urged him closer – besides, reminded the half of him that would always be a pirate, it wouldn't hurt to gather some information on the locals. If anything were true of each port city he'd visited, no matter the realm, it was that illicit trysts were quite common, and what sort of pirate would he be if he were to pass up an opportunity for a little blackmail – especially if it might be the change in winds he needed to get back to his daughter.

Not much of a pirate, and not much of a father.

His mind resolved, he disappeared through the open gate and sidled closer to the house, the sounds from within growing louder as he neared. Testing his weight on the first step and finding it sound and sturdy, he took each one slowly and carefully, advancing toward the turreted portion of the house where a window had been opened to allow the breeze to enter. He pressed the leather of his greatcoat against the wall of the house, making certain no portion of his body would be visible from within should the moonlight be enough to illuminate where he stood.

There was a long moment of silence when he feared he'd made noise enough to be discovered, but then the sounds began again and his eyes closed of their own accord, something about the timbre of the woman's voice cutting through him to a place he hadn't wanted to admit he still possessed.

“Oh, god,” she whimpered, drawing in a sharp breath before more words fell from her, “fuck...just like that...oh, god, don't stop, please, don't stop...”

Hook's fingers clenched at his side and a shaky breath slid from his throat, the woman's pleas burning like a flame along his skin, his cock stirring to life. Then came the sound of someone moving and another moan drifted toward him, the woman's voice rising into a broken cry as her lover played her beautifully. Beyond the blissful moans falling from her lips, he could just barely hear the wet sounds of her pleasure – most certainly the music of someone feasting on her delicate, pink folds.

His own cock was rock hard in his leathers as the soft moans and pleas continued from within, a pang of guilt stabbing through his gut as he listened to the lovers together, wondering whether or not he was truly standing here eavesdropping with an intention to use any and all means he had in order to get back to his daughter, or for his own self-indulgence – it had been years since he'd felt even a stirring of longing for another, since the witch deceived him, and yet...

He shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line and jaw clenched, preparing to quietly take his leave. Whoever this woman was, she didn't deserve to have her intimacies defiled in this way, no matter what she had woken in him that had been long dormant. Though he was desperate, he still believed in good form, or at least the shadow of it. He was carefully finding the most trustworthy planks on the deck when the next words from the the house made his blood run cold, his heart tightening in his chest and a shiver of something unknown racing up his spine.

“Killian, please...need you in me already...”

His breath left him on a shudder, something between adrenaline and fear pumping through his body as he tried to decide whether to flee or press himself closer, to look through the glass and see...after all, surely he couldn't be the only man bearing that name – it must be nothing more than an eerie coincidence.

“The things hearing you beg does to me, love...” a familiar voice rumbled, its timbre just offset enough that Hook was certain he was learning what he himself sounded like to others.

Heedlessly, he leaned into view of the window and peered through the glass, needing the confirmation that only his eyes could give him.

Half draped across the back of a settee was a woman, her hair falling in a golden tumble over her face, hiding it from his view, but clear enough was the dimly lit form of the man leaning over her, his chest bare save for a familiar brace that circled his shoulder and traveled the length of his arm, the remainder of it concealed by the delicate arc of the woman's back – but Hook didn't need to see what rested at the end of the man's arm, he knew, just as surely as he knew that the strong line of the man's jaw, the dark brows and disheveled mop of black hair were the same as those he's seen in the looking glass for years – well, perhaps some years younger, as there were no silver streaks such as the ones he had earned for himself.

Unable to look away, unable to truly understand what he was seeing, Hook watched as the man – Killian, she'd called him, and how long had it been since someone had called him that – dragged his hand across his mouth once to wipe her arousal from his lips, and then once more, rings glistening, as he licked every remnant of it from his fingers.

“Tell me,” the woman purred, sweeping a delicate hand over her face and drawing back the curtain of golden tresses, tossing them over her shoulder – everything stopped.

Hook's lips parted and his gaze focused only on her as the movement revealed the most stunning woman he'd ever laid eyes on – her high, rounded cheeks flushed with color, pink lips swollen from where she'd caught them in her teeth. Her eyes flickered open briefly, settling on the window, and for an instant he feared she may have seen him, but she was too far gone in her pleasure, granting him only the smallest glimpse of emerald green before her lashes fluttered shut once more.

He needed to see them again.

“What does it do to you, hearing me beg?” she whispered, rolling her back and pushing the rounded swell of her bottom more firmly against where she was held anchored. “Tell me...”

Her body shuddered, lips opening on a silent moan, the pale swell of her breast and its rosy nipple peeking over the edge of the settee as she writhed, and Hook could only assume it was due to whatever this other version of himself was doing with his hook below the graceful bend of her stomach.

“Emma,” the man – Killian – spoke in a strained whisper, Hook only just able to hear the words he murmured against her skin as he bowed himself over her back, painting the slope of her neck with soft kisses. “It makes me want to stroke every inch of your skin, to wring every breath of pleasure from your body until you've no words left to beg, until there's no wanting left in you...until I've given you all you need and more...”

“Just you, Killian,” she breathed. “I only need you.”

Heaviness settled in Hook's chest like a storm pressing in from all sides as the woman – Emma, her name was Emma – shifted and reached beneath her, a moan of startled pleasure falling from Killian's lips as she grasped his length and guided him into her body, the glow of the lamp within shimmering on their skin as they began a slow, languorous rhythm, her body undulating beneath him like the sea itself.

“It's always been you, Emma...” he breathed, her lips framing the most beautiful sound Hook had ever heard as she keened beneath her lover, desperate to have him as close and deep within her as was possible.

Words broke amid the moans and pants rushing from her lips, but they were soon lost in the slap of their bodies together as they sought their peak, silver flashing through the air as he rose and grasped her hips, the furniture shaking beneath them as he drew back and thrust himself into her over and over, each drive harsher than the last as curses fell from her lips, her fingers digging into the dark fabric beneath them as she clung to it like a woman drowned.

“God, fuck, oh my god...” Emma whimpered, “I'm so close...so full...”

“Aye, you take me so well, love,” Killian panted behind her, his hair damp with sweat and falling into his face, the blue of his gaze startling vivid for only a moment before his head rolled back in ecstasy, the lamplight glancing off the sharp bob of his throat as he swallowed. Hook's eyes traced the movement, his own body echoing the younger version of himself as he inhaled and swallowed heavily.

Barely aware that he'd moved at all, Hook palmed his own cock in his hand, his leathers straining and painful over his swollen flesh as he watched them both, rooted to the spot though he knew he should leave. It would be so simple to tug free his laces and take himself in hand, to relieve the burning need that would otherwise remain unquenched as he watched his twin bed the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but the heaviness that lingered in his chest reminded him that this wasn't meant for him. This moment wasn't his, and nor were the words traded between them as he carefully slipped from the porch and melded back into the shadows.

“I love you,” she said, her words lost in the wind just as they reached his ears, and like a dream he let them pass, holding onto only the memory of something beautiful he couldn't quite keep.

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

He shouldn't have returned, but days spent lingering around the outskirts of town had done little in the way of providing information, and given what – or rather who – he'd seen the other night, there was an added risk to showing his face among the townsfolk for any longer than a brief glimpse. Only now he was left with a narrowing path forward, the words of the Seer echoing in his mind.

His feet had carried him here just as surely as the heavy longing still lodged between his ribs, and though the morning was still young, he'd learned enough of the man and woman who lived here to know they would be gone for the rest of the day, so he would indulge his curiosities – the persistent feeling that this was where he needed to be – and perhaps he would find his heading.

In the light of day it was easier to take in the details of the abode, the walls a calming grey-blue that recalled the sea on a cloudy morning, the whitewashed columns and woodwork pristine and ornate. Making certain no one had spied him, Hook passed once more through the gate and headed quickly around the house, ignoring the steps he'd climbed only a few nights earlier. It would be far better to gain entry away from the sight of prying eyes, even if he did hold more than a passing resemblance to the Killian who lived here.

His clothing alone would set him apart, and it certainly would not go unremarked upon.

His spirits were lifted when he saw yet another set of stairs leading to an entry at the secluded rear of the house, and knowing that Emma and Killian – the names he'd heard fall from their lips in moments of passion – would be gone, he hurried up the steps without worrying about making too much noise. As he suspected, the door was locked, but a quick swivel of a lock-pick within the mechanism and some pressure applied with his hook was enough to gain entry.

Easing the door closed, he found himself in a hall that led toward the front of the house, several pairs of shoes and boots lined nearly in a small alcove, jackets draped above them from wrought iron hooks. A doorway to his right led to some sort of privy, though for the life of him he couldn't identify the other strange equipment within. Though from the heaped piles of clothing atop them – the red fabric of a sweater Emma had worn only the day before and several black shirts drawing his eye – he imagined they were some sort of contraption for laundering clothing.

He passed through the hallway into the main quarters quickly, not wanting to waste what time he had sifting through their linens, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the settee he'd watched them make love on the other evening – for there was no mistaking the way in which they'd moved and claimed one another, the words they whispered into each other's skin. It was a feeling he remembered from long ago, from the woman etched onto his own skin, but it was also something he'd long ago given up hope of ever finding once more.

For a time, he'd had Alice, and she'd been more then enough – she'd been his everything – despite the trickery that had led to her birth, but now he'd lost even her, and the pressing loneliness he'd felt watching Emma and Killian – this strange, otherworld version of himself – make love had been a reminder that she was why he was here.

He needed to do as the Seer had directed, only then would he be able to cure his heart and find her.

Pulling his gaze away from where he could still see gold hair tumbling and the slick roll of two bodies together, Hook turned toward the stairs. He was uncertain what he was searching for – though his instincts told him there had to be a reason why the portal had chosen to land him here, immediately outside the home of a man who was his twin – but whatever it was, he was sure he would not find it in the main living area.

He rounded the corner of the banister and ascended quickly, hissing at the sharp squeak that sounded from one of the steps near the landing for the next floor, but relaxing when he remembered that he was alone. Both Emma and Killian would be doing as they did every other day, patrolling the town, and the boy who sometimes resided with them – perhaps a son, and that was just one more knife in his heart – would not be returning until this afternoon, if he did at all. Most nights he seemed curiously missing, and Hook had tracked him down to another home with another woman who also seemed to mother him.

Strange and curious.

He bypassed a room that clearly belonged to the young lad, heading instead toward the end of the hall where the edge of a curtain whispered in the breeze from an open window, the movement catching his eye. His boots echoed as he stepped off the edge of the carpet runner and entered the room, his gaze sliding to a large, four-post bed set against the wall to his right, its crisp, white linens made with a fastidious hand, recalling to mind how he used to tuck the blankets into his own berth when he'd had one. White fabric like gossamer or the finest silk hung from its canopy, tied neatly around the posts, and he found himself running his hand along the edge of the sumptuous bedding before he'd even realized he'd moved to its side, imagining their bodies stretched across it in the throes of pleasure.

He swallowed heavily, reminding himself that he was not here to pine over things he couldn't have, but instead to find what information he could about this other version of himself and the woman he loved. Perhaps if he only knew more about them, he would know whether or not they could help – whether they would when he had nothing to offer in return.

A familiar sensation at his throat stilled him before he could turn from the bed, the sharp prick of heavy metal and the press of another body against his back – his own hand knocked from his sword before he could act on the instinct to pull it free. He silently cursed the distraction his weakness had created, keeping him from hearing the man sneak up on him – then again, it was his house. Surely he knew how to move about it quietly, missing the squeaky stair and gaps of wood in the hallway.

“You'd better have a bloody good answer for just who you are, and why you're in my home, mate,” the younger version of himself hissed in his ear, the tip of his hook digging in deeply enough to his skin that his intentions were clear, a small trickle of blood running warmly down his neck.

“I assure you, I mean no harm to you or your family,” Hook sighed, knowing he'd gone and made a mess of things, but he hadn't been able to help himself. He was lost with no idea of what he was supposed to do in order to achieve what the Seer had seen, and for some reason, he'd been drawn back here.

“I'm sure you'll understand that it's a little hard to trust the words coming from someone who looks exactly like me – especially since you broke into my home and here you are, in my quarters.”

“Not exactly though,” Hook chuckled dryly, “a little more grey on top of my head, but I've not been magicked to look like you, if that's your concern. If I had, I certainly wouldn't have aged myself unnecessarily.”

“Aye, well, it wouldn't be the first time some witch has made an error – who are you?” Killian growled.

“It appears I'm you, mate, though I've only just traveled to this realm from my own.”

“Is that so? And what realm might that be?” Killian asked, grabbing his greatcoat suddenly and dragging him across the room, jabbing him roughly in the back as he shoved him toward an upholstered chair sitting opposite the bed and near a window.

“I'm from the Enchanted Forest,” Hook sighed, easing himself into the chair and raising his hand and hook in resignation before placing them both down onto the arms of the chair where his twin could keep an eye on his movements.

“That's a lie,” Killian retorted, a look of annoyance crossing his features as he pulled a small, black box-like object from his pocket and opened it, glancing down at its surface before snapping it shut. “You see, I'm from the Enchanted Forest – and I know for certain that they're weren't two of me walking about, so I'll give you one last chance to answer me truthfully. Where are you from?”

Hook sighed, his fingers reaching to scratch behind his ear before he caught the tension in Killian's body and lowered his hand once more.

“Perhaps my world is known as something else to you and your people, but I wouldn't be privy to what that is – I only know that I was born and lived there, and I spent the last years of my life in a kingdom called Misthaven, ruled by Queen Snow White and her consort.”

A look of something Hook couldn't decipher flashed across Killian's face, and for a moment he had hope that his twin did know something of his world, that perhaps he even believed that he was no threat and would be able to aid him in his quest.

“I see you're less a hand,” Killian gestured, “just as I am, so tell me...Hook...what happened to the Crocodile who took it? Were you able to exact your revenge?”

Memories of his duel with Ahab resurfaced, the barely noticeable heat as the bullet grazed his arm, the thrill of winning only to find that in the end he had truly lost.

“Alas, I did not,” he spoke, looking ahead but seeing only Alice. “I gave up my revenge, and as for the Crocodile, well he suffered a far worse fate than I would have been able to deliver to him.”

“What would be a fate worse than death for the Dark One?”

“He's trapped in a cell of Snow White's making, his powers useless, stuck for an eternity with only his madness and scheming.”

“And that's why you gave up your revenge?”

“No,” Hook breathed, knowing that saying the words aloud to another would simply rip the wound wide open once more – he'd never forget the pain of having to leave her side, to abandon her until he was able to find a cure. “I have a daughter, and she was taken from me. I need to get back to her...I tried for years and failed, but then I chanced upon a Seer, and she promised a solution was within reach...”

Hook finally shifted his gaze to meet Killian's once more, a heavy sigh leaving the other man's lips as he walked to the bed and dropped onto its edge, a pained look flitting across his features.

“I think you may just be from a realm we call the Wish Realm,” he began, “but you're not...you're not as Emma described from her time spent there.”

“Emma's been to my realm?” Hook questioned, unable to hide the flash of something akin to envy on his face as he imagined a time where perhaps he would have crossed paths with her.

“How do you know Emma, mate?” Killian hedged, his tone suddenly cooler and eyes sharp once more.

Hook swallowed the sense of loss in his throat and raised his hands once more, arching a brow and throwing a smirk at his twin that he hoped might allay his worries.

“I may be older than you, but I've not lost my edge – I've been watching and learning about this town since I came through the portal, and Emma, she's spoke of often.”

“This portal, did anyone else come through with you?”

“No, it was only myself. I don't – ” I don't have anyone else. “I swear.”

There was a moment of silence in which Killian weighed his words, considering each of them, but perhaps being able to sense through some familiarity of their pasts that he was telling the truth, he continued.

“Emma has traveled to your realm, briefly, but she said when she crossed paths with you, you were quite a bit...older – far more than a few grey hairs, mate – and perhaps...not as trim as we are now. She may have pressed a bit more water and a bit less rum on me after that.”

“And you're certain this was my realm?”

“Aye, the Wish Realm is the only one we know of wherein the Evil Queen wasn't able to cast her Dark Curse and Rumplestiltskin rots, imprisoned.”

“That is indeed my realm then, but I don't know...” Hook muttered, his fingers running through his hair as he tried to consider a reason for the differences. “I've no explanation of how time works between realms, wish or not, but I can assure you it's the truth that my age is as it seems. It took me years to find the Seer who set me on my current path, who gave me hope that my curse would not last forever and that I could get my daughter back.”

“What's your daughter's name?”

“Alice,” he whispered, his eyes falling closed as the sound passing his lips brought to mind her sweet smile and warm eyes. “I named her after – ”

“Our mother, aye,” Killian finished, his own words weighted with the sadness and longing of a past long gone – a past they both shared. “Well, what is it this Seer has prophesied you are to find here? What will aid in breaking your curse and returning you to your daughter?”

“She looked into my future and claimed there were many branching paths, but that there was a land called Storybrooke, and in that place waited the cure for my cure – that I need only find a magic bean and think of my happy ending, and then I would find it...”

Killian's head shot up from his hand as the words left Hook's mouth, a flicker of true fear passing over his face as he met Hook's gaze, the color from moments earlier drained from his cheeks.

“Your happy ending?” he rasped, and the tightness of his jaw did not go unnoticed by Hook. “And where did this portal leave you, if I might ask?”

“In the street outside, a few days past,” Hook admitted, hoping that his twin wouldn't put two and two together and realize he'd been witness to their more intimate activities, that it would ruin any chance he had of gaining their help. “Might you know – ”

“You'll need to speak with Emma then,” Killian nearly whispered, the tension from his jaw carrying through to the rest of his body as he stood, his eyes focused somewhere else as he gazed past Hook into some distance only he could see.

“And Emma will know how to help me find it, my happy ending, so that I might break this curse?”

“Aye, mate – your happy ending's always been one thing...”

“What is it?” Hook asked, desperation coloring his voice as he gripped the arm of the chair fiercely, hope flaring in his chest for the first time in years.

But his twin merely shook his head and rose, gesturing that he should wait where he was before turning and leaving the room, his boots muffled against the carpeting as he disappeared from sight, and though Hook could just barely catch the faintest whisper leaving his lips, he was too far to understand the words that Killian had exhaled like a dying breath – one person.

END

Tagging: @justanother-unluckysoul @kmomof4 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @alexa-fangirl-forever @alifeofdreams @superchocovian @donteattheappleshook @hollyethecurious @caught-in-the-filter @snowbellewells @itsfabianadocarmo

#Captain Swan #CS fic #cs fanfic #emma and hook #sailtoafarawayland #entwined #wish hook #voyerurism

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

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Void of Extinction by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 2/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 2: Mother

“Good morning James, it is time to get up.”

James woke to the sunlight beaming on his face, stretching his arms to the sky as he groaned. He sat up in bed, wiping his face with the palm of his hand to wake himself from sleep. He slid his legs to the side, feeling his toes touch the light carpet beneath the bed. Shaking his head, he stood from the bed. “Status report.”

“It is currently 9am, pollution level 68%, you have no appointments today.”

“Bloody hell.” He groaned. “What happened to my 7am alarm?”

“You cancelled that alarm, James. Your alarm was set for 9am to begin work at 10am.”

“I cancelled it…” He stood in the middle of his room. “When did I cancel the bloody alarm?”

“I show you cancelled the alarm at 1:30am and set a new alarm for 9am.”

“What the bloody…” He didn’t remember doing anything at 1:30 am. As far as he knew he had been sleeping. He sat down on the chair next to him, running a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes, trying to remember anything happening during the evening that would have caused him to reset his alarm. The longer he thought about it, the more his head hurt. He didn’t need a migraine this morning, he was already late for work now.

He dressed quickly, exiting his apartment to head to the diner.

He was certain that Granny was going to fire him for being this late. When he stepped into the diner she shook her head and pointed to the kitchen.

“You need to get that alarm of yours fixed.”

“Yes Ma’am. I’m going to call a repairman straight away.”

“Get to work.”

The rest of his shift went as usual, James stayed two hours after his shift to assist Granny with the late evening rush, feeling guilty about being late once again. Once the diner had died down, he gathered his coat and was headed to the door. A man sitting in a corner booth caught his attention. It wasn’t that he recognized the man, not entirely, but he seemed familiar.

Something about him gave him a sense of Déjà vu. The headache blinded him as he tried to access the information, the man took notice of him as he grabbed ahold of the nearest bench, trying to steady himself.

“Oi, you look like you could use some help.”

“I’m fine.” He tried to brush him off, pushing the door to the diner open and stepping into the busy street. The man followed him, which annoyed James. “I said I’m fine.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Mate.”

He glanced at the man, narrowing his eyes, there was something about him. “I’m…” The headache blinded him again and he staggered to the edge of the diner, walking back toward his car, and reaching in his pocket for his inhibitor.

“I wouldn’t take that.” The man warned behind him.

“Who are you?” He asked angrily, tripping backwards against his car.

“I’m Will, we spoke the other day. I just want to talk to you about Emma.”

James fell to his knees as it felt like pins and needles were attacking his body, he pulled the inhibitor toward his arm and the man reached down and grabbed at the injector. “Get away from me, what are you doing?”

“Killian, don’t inject that.”

The name shook him, pictures flashed in his brain, the blonde-haired woman from his dreams staring at him with emerald, green eyes, the name falling from her lips like it somehow belonged to him. Killian. He was losing his mind. He pressed the injector to his arm and pushed, a loud hiss emitting as the cool liquid entered his veins. He fell back against the car, exhaling with a groan.

“Dammit mate, I’m trying to help you.”

“You stay away from me before I call the cops.”

“Bloody hell…look, the more you inject that stuff, the more you forget. They messed with your brain, made you all foggy and shite.” James stared at the man as if he had just grown two heads. “You keep getting headaches right? Things don’t add up, and when you think about them, you get a headache.”

“You’re bloody crazy.” He stood up, grabbing the door to his car and yanking it open. “Stay the hell away from me.”

“Will Scarlet.” He shouted before James shut the door.

“Will what?”

“My name, Will Scarlet. Write it down or something.” He turned and left the alley, running in the opposite direction of the diner.

James shook his head, looking at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. Write it down.

He didn’t need to write it down, did he? The man was a lunatic. But…he knew about the headaches; how did he know about them? How did he know that things were out of place?

He looked around the floor of his vintage car, trying to find anything to write with. People thought he was crazy for hanging onto a relic from the 1900’s. It cost him a fortune to repair it. And somehow he knew how to fix everything on his Chevy Chevelle, but anytime he tried to remember how he knew, the headaches came.

He found a marker lying under the mat of the passenger side, grabbing it, he tried to find something to write on. With the absence of paper, he ripped the sleeve of his shirt up and scribbled against his flesh in black ink.

Will Scarlet

~*~

“It’s not like him to be gone for this long without contacting me. Even if he were working on something, he would have mentioned it.”

“Could the resistance have removed him from the playing field?” Mayor Mills asked from her place at her desk.

“Was he working on a case that had to do with the resistance?” David questioned.

David’s new partner, Killian Jones had been missing for weeks now, no message, no contact, just gone. Killian had been quiet about his most recent case; he knew it had something to do with a contact who had reached out to him, and Killian was following a lead, but he wasn’t ready to share information yet. He hadn’t known the man long, he was aware that he was mostly a private person, but he would never just take off without talking to the Captain first.

“Officer Jones case was confidential. We need to find him but keep it quiet. Killian could have found something that could destroy the Resistance, we have to get to him before they do.” She turned to the holo screen in front of her.

David glanced at the screen in front of the Mayor. “Resistance riders made it past the walls?” He inquired nervously.

“Yes, last night we had a breach on the west side. Officer Locksley apprehended two of them. But the rest got away.”

“What were they after?”

“Trying to take down the security net near the harbor. I suspect they have a group in the foglands.”

“What are the plans to take that out?”

“No plans. We’ll let Hive do that for us.”

David exhaled, a look of shock on his face. “You want to work with the Hive?”

“Of course not.” She snorted. “But, when you have an infestation, it’s easier to let the predators take each other out. It’s the natural order of things.”

“I don’t trust the Hive any more than I trust the Resistance.”

“Officer Nolan, The Hive operate outside the walls, they remove the danger before it breaches our city. And if something were to sneak its way inside, to infest our people with lies and misinformation, we have the Gold Collective to remove it, for the good of Storybrooke.”

“That’s another group I don’t trust, how is it for the good of Storybrooke to let them make pod people!” He exclaimed.

“The Void are able to become trustful members of our society again, the Gold Collective has done a great service to our community. And as far as the Hive are concerned, as long as they continue to operate outside our walls, I welcome their removal of our shared problem.”

“So how are either of them any different than the Resistance?”

The Mayor stood. “The idea of the Resistance threatens to destroy everything we hold dear. If even a single one of them is left standing, everyone we know and love, our values, our safety, are in danger. They will bring the plague to Storybrooke, they cannot be trusted, and they must be destroyed.”

David nodded, taking his leave as he returned to the lower levels of the station. He knew that Regina was right, the Resistance stood to destroy everything they had worked so hard to build after the plague hit. He knew that locking people out, building the walls, was not something that the town initially embraced. He too felt guilty when they seemed to doom so many on the other side of the wall. But they had to protect their town.

When the Gold Collective first appeared, run by a man with no past yet unlimited money, taking people off the streets and experimenting on them, the Mayor went after them with the full force of the Storybrooke PD. Then the Hive came. They had kept the Hive from breaching the station walls, drove them back behind the walls and ended their yearlong power grab.

But then a strange thing started happening, townsfolk who had disappeared, those who had been experimented on during the war, returned, with no memory of who they were. Loved ones who no longer recognized their family or friends.

The Mayor came out publicly, condemning the Collective for their interference with her citizens, and then six months later, quietly began accepting the practice. David didn’t know what had changed, only that Regina seemed to think that whatever Gold and his collective was doing, was protecting them. The people who had disappeared were a danger to society, conspirators who agreed with the Resistance, they needed to be stopped before their reckless behavior allowed the plague to spread inside the walls of Storybrooke.

And so, they stopped searching for the agents of the collective, when someone showed up without their memories, the town simply helped to get them acclimated to their work. People turned a blind eye to the reason they went missing, accepting them as new members of their society.

At the same time, the Hive stopped advancing on the town, disappearing into the shadows on the other side of the town’s walls.

Only the Resistance fought back, the war outside the walls between the two factions was escalating. At night they could see the fires burning beyond the mountains. The smoke had become so heavy that they could no longer see the horizon over the water. The area became known as the foglands. The heavily guarded wasteland that the Resistance currently controlled.

Many nights they would send raids to the walls, trying to take down the security net that connected the walls. The resistance would not stop until it fell. And if the walls fell, the plague would take them all.

He had not heard of a single soul surviving the plague. No cure had been found. Without the walls, they would all die. The Resistance had to be stopped.

His com unit beeped, alerting him that he had reached his destination. Stepping out of the electric vehicle he walked the stairs to his home. Opening the door, he smelled the fragrant aroma of chicken baking in the back of the house. He could hear his wife’s voice in the background, the alluring melody of the song she was humming making his heart smile with joy.

When he turned the corner, Mary Margaret had her back to him, swaying back and forth to the music she was singing softly to. He crept up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck. “Mmm it smells wonderful in here.”

She melted into him, humming lightly. “You’re late, darling.”

“I’m sorry, I had a meeting with Regina.”

“And what did the Mayor want with my husband.” She sang softly.

“The usual, how to destroy the Resistance.” He chuckled and then paused. “But she’s more concerned about Officer Killian at the moment.”

She turned in his arms, a grave look on her face. “Is he still missing? Hasn’t it been weeks, David.”

“I know. Regina thinks the Resistance might have gotten to him.” He sighed. “I hope she’s wrong. I’m worried about him, it’s not like him to just go silent.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve been to his apartment, the diner on 5th, the Chinese place he goes to, no one has seen him in weeks.” He sat down at the table. “Regina told me to keep digging, she thinks he’s important, whatever he was working on before he disappeared might be what we need to take down the Resistance once and for all.”

She embraced him, pulling him against her chest. “I know if anyone can find him, you will.”

He looked up and smiled at her as she bent down to press her lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my Prince Charming.” She broke the contact, turning back to her dinner. “Oh, by the way, I have to go out tonight. I forgot to buy the ham for dinner tomorrow.”

“You should have told me; I could have picked it up for you. If you want, I can call the service, I know you don’t trust the LRU’s but they provide quick service.”

She snorted, “Never, why would anyone trust something called a Life Replacement Unit? Even the name blatantly calls out that they mean to replace us. It’s no bother for me to go to the store. It’s how they did it years ago, and besides I enjoy getting out of the house.”

“Well, I have some work to catch up on so I’ll try and get it done before you get back, maybe we can spend the evening watching the holo.”

She turned back toward him and smiled. “I would love that.”

~*~

James parked his Chevelle in the assigned spot at the back of the building, watching as the platform descended into the ground, sending the car to rest beneath the apartment.

He looked up at the building, noticing the way the fog had rolled in from the harbor and hugged the side of the building. He glanced ominously toward the horizon; the smoke looked darker than it had in days. No one was talking about what was happening outside the walls, in the depths of the waters that banked against the town.

“Hey.”

He jumped and turned toward a dark-haired woman. “It’s bad form to sneak up on a man, lass.”

“Sorry about that.” She giggled. “I was wondering if you could spare a lightstick?”

Killian shook his head. “I don’t use those. Bad for your health.” He shrugged and stepped away from the woman.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” She chased after him.

“Look, I already told you, I don’t do the stuff. Neither should you, lass.” Before he could enter the building the woman grabbed him by the arm. He turned toward her quickly as she glared at him. “Listen you siren, while I appreciate a beautiful woman such as yourself getting all handsy with me, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“I just want to talk.”

“I’m not in the mood for that either.” He growled. “So, if you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving now.”

With a quick move, she tightened her grip on his arm, pushing his sleeve further up his forearm, staring at the black ink on his arm. “How do you know Will Scarlet?” Every sensor in his brain went off at once.

“Who the hell are you?” He demanded. “If you know that lunatic, I want nothing to do with you. He’s crazy as a loon and so are you.” He reached for the door to his building before he felt a pain in the back of his neck and the world around him faded to black.

He heard noises around him as the ache in his neck seemed to radiate through his body. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out, but he knew he wasn’t near his apartment anymore. He could hear the sound of seagulls off in the distance and the slosh of water all around him. He opened his eyes but could only see darkness and the fabric placed over his head clung to him. Whoever had taken him didn’t want him to see where he was going or how he got there.

He tried to sit up when his leg hit something hard next to him, sending a clatter of noise off to his right as something smashed to the ground.

“I think our guest has woken up.” Someone grumbled.

“We’re almost there.” He heard another voice.

“She wants to talk to him as soon as we arrive.” He heard the woman’s voice from the apartment.

“This is a stupid idea.” The first voice whispered. “Bringing him here is going to get us all killed.”

“We don’t even know if he’s on our side.”

“Stop talking.” The woman’s voice rang out again. “I’m going to go help dock the boat.”

James sat for what felt like a lifetime as he waited for the voices to come back, instead he listened to the strange sound of the engine, the whirl of a generator somewhere deep below him. He fell forward as the boat hit against something solid.

“Land ho.” A voice boomed to his left.

Arms suddenly were grabbing him, dragging him to his feet. “Who are you, just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone.” He begged.

“You ain’t in no danger ‘ere.” The man squawked. “Just don’t be no trouble.”

James tripped over the stairs and the woman’s voice shrilled behind him. “Would you idiots be careful; mother will be really angry if you injure our prize.”

“Sorry Ma’am.” The voice to his right said apologetically with a loud sneeze.

“Maybe if he learned to walk, sister, we wouldn’t have no trouble.” The voice to his left grumbled angrily.

Once he stepped down again, he could tell he was standing on planks that were connected to a dock. The sway of the ground meant he was over water still. “I’ll take him from here.” He felt the woman slide up beside him, grabbing him by the arm. “She just wants to talk to you, that’s all. If you aren’t interested in what she has to say, you can go back to your miserable existence afterwards.”

“Who’s this she?” He asked nervously.

“The Mother of the Resistance, of course.” She said with a laugh and James felt his blood run cold. He was in the foglands; he had been taken by the Resistance.

He heard a metal door squeal open on rusty hinges and he stepped onto solid ground, as soon as it slammed shut, the itchy fabric was pulled from his head, and he tried to adjust his eyes to the dark glowing lights around him.

“Welcome to the foglands.” The woman announced.

“I’m positively glowing with anticipation.” He said smugly and the woman snorted beside him.

“Oh, they said you were a sarcastic one. I wasn’t sure if you retained that in your new existence.”

“Retained what? New existence?” he asked in confusion. “What are you on about?”

“I don’t think you’re ready for all of that yet.” She grinned as they stepped into a large metal room, water swirling around at their feet.

“Do you intend to drown me, leave me for dead?” He asked incredulously, staring around him at the boxed in room.

“No one is leaving anyone for dead.” A loud voice boomed and echoed through the room. At the other end of the box, a woman stepped out of the shadows, the moonlight illuminating her face through a grate in the ceiling.

“And just who the hell are you?”

“Me?” She laughed. “I’m the Mother of the Resistance.” She paused, stepping closer to him. “But you can call me Mary Margaret.”

#void of extinction #stacy's fics #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan fics #captain swan modern au #captain swan au #captain swan

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ninjakasuga · 4 years

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Sonsal Celebration Day 6

Day Six of the celebration of best furry couple by @boundforfreedomsonsal continues! Admittedly I’ve been watching eagerly for this day as this was honestly the first of the prompts I worked on. Having finished reading @archiesoniconline ‘s fan-project version of issue 249 and 250 (in which Sally was deroboticized huzzah) and the signs of Sally dealing with the obvious aftermath; I was inspired. Add in inspiration from a few pages of Glitcher’s Sonic Retold series, and well I had material to work with. I recommend if you want to see a faithful fan continuation of the pre-reboot Archie-Sonic era give ASO, a shot or even pay Glitcher’s DA page ( https://www.deviantart.com/glitcher ) a visit. Since the old comics are never going to see an official revisit we fans are the only ones who will see our beloved characters flourish so give these guys and other fan projects a looksie! Also the lovely, AMAZING art work provided for this prompt was by the amazing @foxinadress seriously this amazing artist deserves praise. I recommend not only giving his Tumblr a visit but check their various art platforms and Patreon.

One last Author note; there is some pushing of the PG-13 as per usual, but at this point you guys expect that from me. XD Also while this takes place in my little Sonic fic-verse, it’s out of chronological order, taking place between the Double Date and Surprise prompt episodes.

HURT:

Looking out at the forest beyond Sally Acorn didn’t seem to pay mind to the setting sun, nor did she react to the sounds of the far off cheers coming from the city nearby. There was a lot to celebrate, between the Deathegg being put out of commission, for Naugus being exposed and dealt with, everyone was in a party mood. As much as she didn’t care to dwell on it, the Princess knew a chunk of the celebration was for her own safe return after spending a few months as Mecha Sally.

A few horrible, painful months where she felt like she was trapped inside her own body, unable to do anything but the screaming impulses of Eggman’s whim. She’d be lying if she didn’t thoroughly enjoy seeing his shattered expression as he fled from the Deathegg as the vile creation was torn apart by explosions before crashing into one of his bases it was poised above. It almost made up for the hell she endured.

Yet that joy felt somehow hollow still and it bugged her incessantly. She was back home, her friends and family safe, the Kingdom was safe, and yet… Sally couldn’t fully feel right. She did not feel like she deserved to be there, enjoying the celebration with everyone else. The squirrel-munk hated how she felt, not when her friends, and especially a certain Hedgehog, fought like hell to get her back. Closing her eyes Sally felt the raging memories she tried to suppress coming back. Of her time as Mecha-Sally, from being used as a tool to harm, maim, and kill her friends. Thankfully the latter never happened, but plenty of the former happened; and then there was the recollection of when she was weaponized.

A deep shudder ran through her as she curled her legs closer to her chest, her breathing reaching almost hyperventilating levels as she tried to fight down the terror and panic. By the Neo-Walkers, the Almighty, and any Deity that truly was out there, it was like watching someone dismember you and be AWAKE through it all! In lieu of blood was oil, and yet every part ripped out might as well have been an appendage or organ! While a Robian was made of wires and metal they still had a ‘core’ representing their life-force. When Eggman was taking her apart and enjoying it, her ‘core vitals’ went crazy as if even as a machine her body and true mind knew of the violation being done to her. She nearly died just because Eggman wanted to be sadistic as he prepped her to be a killing machine against all she loved.

Even a week after being deroboticized, she couldn’t shake those vague but potent recollections. Sally was able to suppress and bury most of her trauma by focusing on deposing Naugus before he took the Kingdom down with him, but now that she was left alone to her thoughts; she couldn’t drown it all out.

So lost in her own mind, her ears didn’t even twitch as a familiar ‘sonic-boom’ echoed nearby, signaling the arrival of a certain someone. The flag on the pole she sat beside on the hill of FF Headquarters, began to wave and bob from the sudden gust of wind, along with her hair and vest. Yet Sally didn’t truly seem to pay attention any until a warm hand, gently settled on her shoulder.

“Yo Sal, you okay?! You’re shaking all over!” A concerned voice uttered as the hand moved from her shoulder, and now two entire arms began to gently wrap around her, pulling her into the lap of the owner of said arms. At the feel of his warmth behind her back, Sally instinctively nestled against him, and let out a shaky breath. “I-I’m okay Sonic, jus-just a little chilly is all.”

“Bullshi-er-baloney…” Quipped back the fastest Hedgehog alive as he self-censored himself from uttering a more potent and crass choice of phrase. As he gently rested his chin atop her head, Sonic softly began to gently sway his body, rocking Sally in their embrace as he sought to help her deal with her woes. “You can’t pull a fast one over on me, I know you Sally, and this?” He gestured to her entirely. “This ain’t the wind giving you chills.” His usual jovial tone was dialed all the way to deep concern as his hands remained locked around her waist. “Talk to me Sal, please talk to me.”

Swallowing hard, Sally none-the-less tried to ease his concern with false-assurance. Not easy when those emerald orbs looked at her like that. She loved his eyes but the way he looked at her with concern and love, it almost made things feel worse because she didn’t want him to worry about her. “It’s just a little shake, and bad memories I’ll be fine-.” Interrupting her, Sonic kept his tone even, but a firmness trickled in. “Sally, don’t play this off. Now isn’t the time to pretend you’re not hurting. We sent Naugus packin’ and Egg-butt is still reeling from his toys being broken. Right now the only thing this Hedgehog cares about is the well-being of the woman in my arms. You, numero uno, the one and only Princess Sally, Acorn. The woman I love.” His hand traced along her cheek, making her lip quiver. “You’re hurting, let me help you Sal, right now we have nothing to worry about but us right now. Don’t shut me out, not this time, or ever, please. Now’s the time to let it all out because we dunno when we might get another break.”

His pleas tugged at her heart-strings, his devotion and love for her making her feel wonderful; yet awful at the same time with how her conflicted mind felt. Yet those words she didn’t know she needed to hear, eroded what resistance had been left in Sally. She crumbled like a dam that had burst after too much neglect. Turning her body in his embrace, she buried her face into his neck and sobbed, and just gushed, everything in her spilling out in tandem with the hot tears, leaking from her eyes. “I still remember being weaponized, being taken apart piece by piece, Eggman not caring if he nearly killed me in the process. I saw my own limbs and other pieces just, discarded as he smiled and hummed to music!” A deep shudder ran through her body as she clung to Sonic even more. She began to hiccup but kept talking. “Then he sent me out after everyone… I wish it was a blur, but every image is potently burned into my brain! I remember being used against everyone… I-I almost killed you, my brother, Lupe, Antoine, everyone I cared for and loved… How I managed to not kill anyone I don’t know!”

Shaking her grip on him tightened as more hot tears rolled from her eyes, matting the fur of his shoulder and neck. “When I wasn’t out in the field he made plan out methods to attack the Kingdom, or how to use my knowledge of my friends to use psychological warfare to break you all… I was even tasked to come up with methods to-to assassinate everyone!” Her voice grew hoarse as the lump in her throat got worse, along with the hiccuping. “I made fifty plans for you alone…”

Deep, burning anger, filled Sonic as much as his desire to comfort and console his best friend and love of his life. The latter won out, and so he mentally filed away his desire to race to wherever Eggman ran off too for the time being and pound his face into jelly. A rage that surpassed the killing desire he felt when fighting the original Robotnik one last time just burned in him, to the point it scared him. Mentally berating himself, Sonic tried to refocus his mind. Sally needed him, and not off fulfilling a vendetta. With one hand, he began to rub up and down her back gently, as the other rested against the back of her head; stroking her auburn tresses as she sobbed against him. “Oh, Sally…” Sonic wanted to make the pain all go away, but knowing he couldn’t just snap a finger and do so, the Hedgehog continued to cradle Sally in his arms.

Sonic was known for his fast-talking, use of quips, and using humor to play off the more dreary elements of what was going on. Keeping upbeat and focusing ahead and ready to move on without looking back much. This was not one of those times he could be flippant on the issue. Yet he wasn’t sure what to say, could he really say anything that could make it all better, even a little? He had to try. “That wasn’t you though-.”

Sally’s tear-stained face pulled away from Sonic’s chest, sending him a glare that could kill, if she didn’t look so emotionally wrecked. “Don’t bull-crap me Sonic Hedgehog, I remember doing all those things!! Me, all me! Eggman let me keep my free will so he could use my tactical prowess and memories and-.”

Interrupting her, Sonic let a low growl leave his throat as he shook his head fiercely. “That wasn’t you Sally Acorn!! I’ve been roboticized too, and I know how that song and dance went!” Shaking his head he placed a soft kiss to her forehead as he held her close still. “Buttnik didn’t give my mind as much leeway as Eggman gave you, but I wasn’t some common bot-job either. Point is you’re still programmed to follow their rules. Just like Robuttnik made me do as he wanted despite any freedom of tactical thinking he left me.” He grit his teeth trying to suppress both his memories of that time and his growing anger.

“The same applies to you being made to follow that- that, F**King Egg-face’s orders!” He cried giving in and cursing, using a word even he rarely uttered which caused Sally to gasp and stare at him in shock. Something Sonic took advantage of to press on with his words. “Even if you were given some mental free-reign Eggman still wanted dominance and control, meaning he was still using you like a puppet. You were still doing things you did not want to do deep down, because the Sally I know, the Sally I love would never do any of that of her true free will.”

Lip quivering Sally sniffled again, her grip on him tightening some. A fresh wave of doubt, both of her current crisis and old ones creeping into her mind. “Sonic, why? Ho-how could you still love me after all I did? All that I put you and the others through-?”

He interrupted her again with a kiss, soft, and quick, after breaking it his hands gently frame her face. “Because I can, because I do love you, and want to help you through this. Just like you did for me after I was roboticized and used against you all. Remember I wanted to die, but you not only turned me back but helped me deal with the aftermath.” Gently ‘booping’ her nose, he flashed her one of his soft smiles. “I still owe you a makeup date since, well the last one got interrupted by all the blow-out from the Nicole paranoia.”

Softly hiccuping for a moment as she tried to compose herself, Sally found herself slowly smiling if just a thin one. “Even if your girlfriend is a mess? Sonic I-I don’t know if I can trust myself, even if a part of me knows you’re right…” Laying her hands over his, she shook as another wave of doubt and sadness took her. “That was still me, what if what I went through woke up some nasty side of me, a part of me that willingly became a monster to-to ‘get the job done’?”

Firming shaking his head, Sonic leans in, his nose touching hers as his emerald eyes stare into her soft blue peepers. “Then the monster’s gonna have’ta deal with having me around to poke her or wag a finger in her direction. That said I don’t think there’s a monster, just the most amazing woman ever doubting herself. I understand some of what you’re going through Sal, and what I don’t I’m still here to help you along the way. We’ll get through this together like we always do.”

A true, warm, and wide smile crept onto Sally’s face before outright overtaking it. Leaning closer, her forehead, and his touch as she let herself be lost in his emerald gaze. “I don’t deserve you.”

Making a ‘hmm’ of deep thought, the hedgehog just flashed his trademark cocky smile back at her. “Hmm, judges say that’s hogwash. I think the Princess deserves nice things.”

Sally lifted an eyebrow, her mouth quivering as she barely withheld making a ‘snerk’ sound. “So you’re a nice thing?”

“Ten out of ten agree, when you go Sonic, you don’t go back.” He chimed in a sing-song, cheesy tone. Just happy to see her expression lighting up.

A happy laugh left Sally’s lips as she slid her arms around his neck. “I’ll give you that, I’d be lying saying otherwise.” Leaning closer, still staring into Sonic’s eyes, Sally craned her head to the side still leaning in. “I still think I don’t deserve you-.” “Sal-.” She put a finger to his lips. “However, I am very, very happy that you still love and want me even with all my flaws, and baggage.” “Like I’m not flawed-?” She interrupted him again, “Not finished, the bottom line is- oh screw it! I love you too, now kiss me!”’ Deciding words weren’t enough and anything else she said would be a mere retread of words already spoken. She removed her finger from his lips and closed the distance. Planting a big, ol’ wet, and hungry kiss against the Hedgehog’s lips. To which Sonic’s only response was to make a surprised if pleased sound and eagerly return the kiss. Each tightening their hold on the other as the sun fully began to set, and soon the sky lit up with fire-works from the celebration in the city. Almost as if to mirror the setting sun, giving way to the moon and the night; their kissing grew more passionate. Simple lip-to-lip meshing gave way to dueling tongues and their grip on each other began to pet and rub at the skin under their fur, as a heat grew between them.

Shrugging a shoulder, Sally let her vest start to fall off. Noticing this, Sonic started to grasp the article to help slide it back in place, but one of her hands grasped his wrist to stop him. “Don’t.” She pleaded, heat in her voice, her still tear-wet eyes opening to look into his. “I need you Sonic, I want to feel you all of you, kissing me, holding me, on me, in me…” Her soft words carried a mix of soft pleas from the inner turmoil she still felt; intermingled with a sensual huskiness that underlined her desire to be loved and make the pain go away.

Any argument about being out in the open, died without Sonic even uttering the thoughts. Certainly, the concern of being walked upon was there; as far from prying eyes as Freedom Fighter HQ was, they were sitting on top of the grassy hill on top of it. Anyone could wander by and get, well one hell of a show.

Sally’s loving, needy gaze, and soft pleas killed any objections as Sonic, helped her remove the vest and their kissing resumed. It was probably in their favor that the fireworks show went on as long as it did, dulling out sounds, a pretty distraction and if both Sally and Sonic were, to be honest, ambiance to the oldest dance they were engaged in without a care in the world besides each other.

Robotnik couldn’t destroy them, and neither would Eggman, they would endure as long as they had each other.

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Sally Acorn #Sonsal #Sonally #Sonsal Celebration #boundingforfreedom #boundingforfreedomsonsal #romance #Sonsal Week Year 2 #Prompt #hurt #Archie Sonic #Kntohole HQ #kissing

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sambethe · 7 years

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EC FF: The Warmth Despite the Chill (Dorothy x Lucas)

A/N: Missing scene between the kiss at the end of episode 1x04 and the arrival of Eamonn & Ojo. Happiest of birthdays to @fairytalesandtimetravel, just one day late! A few soft moments before shit gets real next week.

Words: 1550 | Rating: M | ao3

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He can hear the notes of the music playing. They’re crisp and clear, despite the sullenness of their tone. Between them and the wisps of snow falling and getting caught in the ends of Dorothy’s hair, he can almost let himself imagine that it’s just them in these woods, with the girl curled up with Toto across the fire.

Lucas watches her watch him listen. He tries to hold onto the words, but they fade and slip from his mind as the sound of the strings rise and her hand cups his elbow. Her fingers scratch at the fabric of his jacket as she whispers, “That man, he didn’t know you.”

He tries to stay focused on her eyes, on what it is she’s saying between those words, but his attention flickers to her mouth and the way her tongue rests behind her lower lip before she bites down. He means to nod his head, but instead inches closer.

“He knew who I was.”

The hand she has at his elbow travels up his arm and rests on his bicep. It takes all he has not to pull her towards him and cover her mouth with his before he can finish his thought.

“The man I am today?” he continues, twisting his fingers in the ends of her hair as she creeps forward. Her forehead is nearly pressed to his and Lucas can feel the puff of her breath against his lips. “He’s who I want to be.”

It only takes a beat from the time the last word leaves his mouth to when her lips are pressed to his. He’s not sure which of them covers that last bit of space, but he doesn’t think he cares when all he can feel is what he’s wanted since their journey from Nimbo started. She’s soft, softer than he’s imagined, and he wants to savor it. So he keeps the pressure light, almost fleeting, until her hand reaches for his jaw. Her fingers hover just out of reach, but he can feel the heat of them. It matches the heat he can feel where her knee is pressed to his.

A part of him feels that he shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t take what Dorothy’s offering him. Not when there is so much unknown about him, a larger part knows he’s never been more sure of something – someone, despite knowing nothing of what came before he knew her.

So when her fingers graze his face, the pads soft against the scratch his beard, he tilts his head and deepens the kiss. He moves a hand to her waist, curling his fingers and drawing closer to her as she opens her mouth to him. Lucas doesn’t hesitate, takes her invitation to sweep his tongue against hers. She’s wet and warm, a stark contrast to the weather that swirls around them, and a moan rises at the back of his throat. He doesn’t break from her, instead draws his free hand to her head, his fingers threading in her hair, holding Dorothy to him, allowing her to swallow his moan as their tongues continue to slide and curl with one another.

When they finally do break, she remains with him, her lips hovering just out of reach as they breathe in each other’s breaths. She nudges the tip of her nose along his and he moves to follow, but he stops when he feels her smile press against the corner of his mouth. She follows it with a brush of her lips to his cheek, and then continues with a wet slide to his jaw.

He tightens his grip at her hip, wanting to haul her into his lap, wanting to slip his hand beneath her jacket to find the skin he knows hides from his view. He wants to let Dorothy’s mouth wander, beneath his jaw, to his neck, to his ear. But he also knows a frightened girl sleeps just feet from them and this can only go so far.

She must feel his hesitation because she nips at the skin of his neck and gives a quiet laugh before she pulls back, her eyes searching his.

He draws his fingers from her hair, cupping her cheek and bringing her back to him. “We should rest soon,” he says, but belies his words with another kiss to her lips. She hums against him but doesn’t move to stop the slow pecks they pass between themselves. If anything, she slows them, allows them to linger, drawing them out until her tongue is once again entwined with his. And he lets her pull him back in, losing himself in the feel of her being so close. It’s only her fingers tracing at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, slipping beneath the fabric of his shirt that makes him once again mindful of where they are.

He reaches up and wraps her hand with his, pulling her fingers to his mouth so he can kiss the tip of each finger before leaving a lingering kiss to the inside of her wrist. He watches her as he does, her eyes are still closed as she sways – whether because of him or the music that still plays in their ears, he is unsure – but she smiles when he nips at the delicate skin.

“I thought you wanted to rest.”

He smiles back when her eyes flutter open and he presses another kiss into her skin, this time at her palm, before he threads their fingers together.

“I do,” he says, enjoying the way her eyes crinkle as she watches him. “But I find your lips distracting.”

“Just my lips?” she teases, dropping her free hand to his knee and sliding it up his thigh.

He gives a muffled growl and leans in to kiss her once again.

Dorothy pulls back after a few moments, her tongue licking along her lower lip. “Funny how you remember how to do this.”

He runs his nose along her cheek. “Would seem a pity to forget.”

She hums and returns her hand to his jaw, drawing his mouth back to hers. He follows her lead, losing himself in the warm, wet slide of tongue once more. He’s not sure how long they continue, but he has a moment to wonder at how long it might have been since he’s been kissed like this – unhurried caresses that build and wind him up but with no pressure to push further. When Dorothy pulls back again, he looks at her and smiles at the sight of her swollen lips and tangled hair. The device on which she’d played the music lies forgotten on her bag, the ear pieces wired to fallen forgotten on the ground around it.

“Sleep?” she asks and he nods, shuffling to lie down on the ground in front of the log on which they’ve been sitting. Dorothy shimmies down next to him, laying her head on his chest. Lucas can feel her shudder against him after a moment, despite the fire still burning low at their feet. He shifts to sit a moment, pulling off his jacket. Once he’s settled back down and she’s again laid her head on him, he drops the coat over her and tucks her closer to his side.

“Better?”

She nods and settles an arm across his chest, resting her hand above his breastbone. He brings his own up and traces at her fingers. He glances down when she presses a kiss to him and finds her tilting her chin up to reach his mouth again. He leans down and draws her to him, sliding his tongue into her mouth without preamble this time. She gives a quiet moan and he can feel the vibration of it against his chest. He grips her shoulder and deepens the kiss as she hitches her leg over his hip.

He reaches down to grab hold of her knee, his fingers splaying to her thigh, and has a fleeting thought to tug her so she lies on top of him more fully. His cock stirs just beneath where her thigh rests and he can feel her heat radiating against him. He wants to know the feel of her, even with the layers of clothes between them, but he knows that this is not the place.

So he pulls away and tips his head back, bringing his hand up to comb through his hair. Dorothy slips her hand beneath the leather of his vest. He groans as she gropes to find the ends of his shirt beneath it.

“Dorothy,” he sighs, wanting to once again feel her hands on his chest without a barrier between them. Wants it to be for a purpose other than to nurse him back to health. “Not here,” he says, reaching for her hand again.

“I know,” comes her quiet reply followed by a kiss to his chest before she settles back down at his side. She tangles their fingers together and Lucas can feel the rise and fall of her chest as she steadies herself. He wishes they were anywhere but this forest. Wishes he could keep her safe. Wishes he could bring her to her home.

Wishes he could follow.

And wonders if this next time she goes away, if she’ll be gone from him for good.

#emerald city #emerald city ff #dorothy x lucas #kansas knight #knock knock #my ff ec

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slimacwrites · 7 years

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The Knight? (An Emerald City FF)

A quick something about Lucas processing Roan and the consequences of an unknown past, set between the kiss and the end of the episode.

Companion piece to The Monster and The Guard as part of the Lucas Identity series.

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone…

The meadow was silent around Lucas even though the music continued to play through his head. Echoing. Reminding him of everything that should have been in there but wasn’t. And there was nothing outside of it to distract him. Dorothy was off changing from his borrowed clothing in the woods while Sylvie slept under a tree. Too silent. But he had no idea how to turn on the wonderous science-that-was-but-wasn’t-magic box to start the music again without Dorothy’s guidance.

He didn’t know a lot without Dorothy’s guidance.

The Wizard’s Guard’s sword laid across his lap, shimmering in the starlight as his leg bounced on the frozen ground. Part of the mystery had been solved. And a large part of Lucas wished it hadn’t been. Lucas- no, Roan- had carried this sword.

Had been a knight.

Until whatever happened to have him strung up in Nimbo happened.

But with what the Knight that looked like a lion had said earlier implied Roan had been out of the Wizard’s Guard for quite some time. How long? And why had he been kicked out of it? Lucas knew what he wished Roan had done. Wished that Roan had been hunted because he’d turned from his orders, refused to partake in the tyranny of the Wizard and been discharged. Hunted for his gall. Maybe he even ran away? And then in Nimbo, maybe Roan had showed up and tried to defend the town? Maybe that was how Sylvie, the little witch, had known him? Maybe that explained the violent hug for a greeting and refusal to leave his side? Had she seen him strung up, tarred and feathered? Seen the life of Roan slip from his trauma addled brain, eyes go blank and empty?

Or was he fantasizing? Desperate to be someone other than a villain?

Maybe he was being hunted by the Wizard’s Guard because he was a monster. A merciless killer who they thought too violent to even be in their ranks and the tarring and feathering had been a punishment. If it was- it wasn’t enough. Lucas had felt the muscle memory take over at the Apothecary. They should have killed him.

But maybe they had killed Roan after all?

Only darkness every day….

In a fit of frustration, Lucas grabbed the hilt of Roan’s sword and slammed it into the ground, the frozen dirt giving way in a hissing slice. Pushing himself off the log he had been sitting on, Lucas stormed across the small space between the trees before turning on his heel and going back the same way. Pacing, as if that could find his memory. Or exhaust him beyond caring.

If the truth came out and he was the monster. No redeeming qualities. It didn’t matter who he was now- that he was Lucas now- did it? He’d still have to pay. How could he live this new life, be this new person, knowing he’d been a monster and destroyed countless others?

It was better before he knew anything about his past.

Nearing where the sword stood in the ground, Lucas swung out, kicking the flat end of the blade and causing it to wobble and whine, nearly jumping out of the ground.

“Lucas! Hey-” Dorothy shouted, hurrying from the trees, Toto hot on her heels. She reached him, grabbing for his hands.

Here was the one thing Lucas wished he knew more about.

Dorothy Gale. The girl who fell from the sky. Beautiful. Strong. Fierce. Brave. Gentle. Everything he could have ever dreamed of.

Nothing he deserved.

“Shouldn’t you call me Roan?” he snapped gruffly, spinning again and pacing away. He knew she was shooting him a confused and hurt look. It was why he was walking away.

“What are you talking about?” she demanded, marching after him before grabbing the tails of his coat and yanking, using her body weight in a backwards fall. She brought him down beside her onto the hard ground before shifting on top of him and pinning him to the ground.

“I thought you said you were the man you wanted to be now? As Lucas?”

Lucas glanced away, ashamed. He had said that to her. Right before he kissed her. Kissed Dorothy. Finally gave into that attraction that had been growing between them since she’d pulled him off the crucifix in Nimbo. It was the only kiss Lucas remembered ever getting, the only sign of affection his blank mind could pinpoint. But something told him it had been the best. The most right. Even from when he was Roan.

And this house just aint no home….

“But what if I was a monster before? It’s a possibility.” Lucas didn’t feel right to him anymore, almost as if it were an ill-fitting suit or a house with a door that had shrunk in the dryness to let drafts in.

Dorothy shoved down on his shoulders, irritated. “Of course it’s a possibility. But why the hell should you punish yourself for a life you don’t remember? You’re catastrophizing. And it’s ridiculous. Should I punish myself about what kind of baby I was that made my own mother give me up?” Her voice broke on mother.

Lucas softened, hands moving up to grasp her elbows and guide her down onto him, wrapping his arms around her torso. Dorothy buried her face into his sweater, pulling in a few ragged breaths. Lucas cursed his temper. He should have been careful. He knew she took her abandonment as a child hard. It was why she was so determined to find out about that coat, supposedly of her mother, why she had reacted as she did to Sylvie.

“You weren’t in control as a baby. That’s on your mother.”

“Yeah, well, your behaviour before is on Roan. Not Lucas.” She twisted her head so she could glance at him. “If we find out the truth we’ll handle it then. Just be a good man now.”

“Even if we find out I was a very bad man?”

“Even if. Because Lucas is a good man. You’re not the Wizard Guard knight. You’re my knight. And my knight isn’t Roan, doesn’t give a shit about Roan. My knight is Lucas.” And then she shifted and kissed him. Hard. Almost angry.

And this house just aint no home/Anytime she goes away….

Lucas returned the kiss, rolling her off him and to the side so he could roll onto his own side and see her better. Dorothy was angry and scared and he was desperate and confused. But somehow, when they clashed like that, it made sense. They made sense.

When they broke apart, breathing heavily, Dorothy started at him hard. “Do you understand, Lucas?”

“Lucas,” he repeated. “Lucas of the Dorothy Guard.” Dorothy snorted in response to his words and he grinned. She gave him a good natured shove before curling into his side. Yes, they made sense. They were right.

“Want to listen to some more music before we fall asleep?” she asked, pulling out the little box.

Lucas nodded. “Can we listen to the song from before?”

With a small smile Dorothy obliged, handing him an earphone while he draped his coat over both their bodies. The quiet of the clearing, the emptiness of his mind, was filled with music again.

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone….

#dorothy x lucas #knightgale #emerald city ff #dorothy x lucas ff #slimacwrites

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aistaraina · 7 years

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Ahh to hell with it. I’m going to try taking prompts for Emerald City specifically Kansas Knight. I might even try my hand at smut. I can’t guarantee the quality but I will do my best.

#emerald city #emerald city fanfiction #emerald city fanfic #emerald city ff #ec ff #don't know if that last one is a tag yet or not #dorothy x lucas #kansas knight #prompts #fanfiction prompts #let's see what i get #not likely much

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little-birdseeker · 4 years

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LFRP - Isabelle Birdseeker

The Basics ––––

Age: 21

Birthday: 17th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

Race: Miqo’te (Seeker of the Sun)

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Straight

Marital Status: Single

Server: Phoenix

Physical Appearance ––––

Hair: Red, which is lighter at the tips

Eyes: Emerald green

Height: ~150cm / 4′11′’

Build: small and slim, but surprisingly busty

Distinguishing Marks: Her Seeker marks, two small red stars on her right cheek

Common Accessories: A necklace with a jade pendant

Personal ––––

Profession: Weaver

Hobbies: Weaving, Singing and Dancing, Exploring new places, Magic, Adventuring, Reading

Languages: Common, Hingashi

Residence: Right now she lives with her free company in Kugane, but she owns a little atelier in Ul’dah, too.

Birthplace: Limsa Lominsa

Religion: N/A

Patron Deity: Azeyma

Fears: Disappoint others, especially her family and friends; loosing her loved ones

Relationships –––-

Spouse: None

Children: None

Parents: Luca Birdseeker, Miara Birdseeker

Siblings: Ruun Birdseeker, Iana Birdseeker (deceased)

Other Relatives: N/A

Pets: Ricky, her chocobo, with whom she sometimes roams through Eorzea

Traits –––-

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––––

Smoking Habit: Nope! Drugs: Nope! Alcohol: Casually

RP Hooks ––––

In need of a dress? Isabelle got you covered! You might have heard from the talented miqo’te, who specialized in dresses, maybe from someone who was a customer, or someone from the weavers guild recommended her.

Miqo’te in Kugane are still quite rare, as i heared, so Isabelle is easy to spot there, when she takes a stroll through the city, talking to people and learning more about the culture and how to recreate the eastern clothes. Maybe you run into her there?

The Birdseekers. Maybe you know the family from Limsa, known for their business around ships, specialized on making the sails or clothes for the crew.

Adventuring is fun and interesting, as you can explore new places, meet new people... that’s why Isabelle does it every now and then. You might have seen her at the adventurerers guild in Ul’dah, or on one of her trips through Eorzea.

“What’s this aether...?”, you might ask if you can see or at least feel it, as Isabelles aether is far more condensed than anything you might have seen, even though she doesn’t even know that herself...

A dancing beauty, as some people describe her, although she is still learning to dance and makes clumsy mistakes here and there. Maybe you want to lend her a hand?

What i’m looking for ––––

New friends, new people to interact with, new stories... i just want to have some fun. If you are interested, just send me a message! Nearly everything is fine, although i don’t want to do ERP. Slight nsfw is okay, like... talking about things and stuff. (Like... look at her chest. It’s, eh... yeah. I think one can mention that) But that’s nothing mandatory!

Other Information ––––

OOC: I’m a male student from germany and 26 years old right now. Most of the time you can find me playing video games. One of my favs is the Legend of Zelda, but there are many more, like Animal Crossing right now, so i might talk about that a lot, too, so you have been warned. As of FF XIV, i started to do the extreme raids a while ago, so at times i might be busy with them. So... just so you know.

RP Style: Personally, i prefer to write stories in Discord, as i haven’t done any rp ingame yet and i don’t feel like i am any good at that. But there has to be a first time, right? So if you want to rp ingame, i’m interested in giving that a shot. Just ask! :D

Contact Information: You can message me here on tumblr, or find me on Discord - just dm me for the info! Also, as my mainblog is @pjarox, you can also message me there, and follows will come from that blog, too, so don’t be confused.

Availabilty: As i am from europe, my timezone is CET, where i am active around 7pm~1am most of the week, but tbh, i will answer whenever i have the possibility to.

#lrfp #Isabelle Birdseeker #about her~

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mobius-prime · 4 years

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206. Sonic the Hedgehog #138

Return to Angel Island (Part 1): The Message

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Jon Gray Colors: Jason Jensen

We're in for a big one, guys! This is another four-parter, and it's time to finally find out what's going on on Angel Island! But first, Sally and Sonic have to deal with the blowback from the king about their little Tommy mission. King Max chews them out for a while, with Sally tersely accepting the scolding, but Sonic actually attempts to cover for Sally by lying (badly) that she only came along because he kidnapped her. Of course, the king doesn't believe him, and after coldly calling into question Sally's ability to rule in his stead when they leave on their tour, he sends them off.

Yikes. Seems things are going to stay frosty between these two for a while. That afternoon, the king and queen, along with Uncle Chuck as their advisor and Antoine as their bodyguard, depart for their world tour. Shortly thereafter, everyone is hanging out in Chuck's diner, which is currently being manned by Jules and Bernie, while Sonic confides in Knuckles and Julie-Su about his troubles with Sally. Julie-Su points out that Sally's feelings are understandable to a degree, as she herself struggled for a long time after Knuckles' return from the grave with feeling comfortable about him going back into battle. The conversation is interrupted by a sudden crash at the door, and everyone is shocked to see a badly injured Charmy and Saffron enter the establishment and immediately collapse. They're immediately taken to receive medical attention, and after that Sally questions the two on what exactly happened. Charmy and Saffron relate, stricken by grief, how Eggman attacked their home at the Goldenhive Colony, and try as they might, they failed to save anyone - and they mean literally anyone. Their parents, all their friends, every single other member of the colony is dead now. I have to say, while this is certainly an… effective way of kicking to the curb Kenders' weird plans to shunt Charmy away from the spotlight, it's also an incredibly brutal way. I mean, how many others here have lost literally everyone they care about? Oh, wait, Knuckles is getting there! Fittingly, at that exact moment a transmission comes through on the Technolo-Tree, but the only thing that can be made out through the static is that Locke is apparently being held prisoner on Angel Island. And at that moment, Knuckles' patience, so carefully maintained just a couple issues ago, finally snaps.

Sally, you have to remember that it's been almost an entire year that he's been off his island, and he knows he still has friends and family stuck there, with Eggman doing who knows what to them. Can you blame him for wanting to rescue literally the only home he's ever known from Eggman's brutal occupation? Sonic sheepishly leaves with Knuckles, and together they, Julie-Su, the Chaotix (back together again! Also this time including Ray, who's been severely sidelined for quite some time now, and Saffron), and Bunnie all pile into the FFS and fly to Angel Island. Bunnie remains behind at Sonic's request, since he wants to make sure Sally still has a heavy hitter watching over Knothole while they're gone, and everyone else airdrops in, landing in the Marble Garden Zone. Sonic races away to do some split-second recon, and comes back with some pretty horrendous news - there's an honest-to-god prison camp not far from there location, sponsored by Eggman, run by dingoes, and filled with enslaved echidnas being worked half to death by their captors. So, naturally, the intrepid infiltrators race directly in and start causing some havoc.

Okay, this is something I've danced around for quite a while now, but… I really don’t like the portrayal of the dingoes as this weird military hive mind. Penders very obviously based them off of Nazi Germany in many ways (like… as we saw before in KtE#22, his hints toward this weren't subtle at all), and I believe he's even said that he deliberately only ever showed male dingoes, avoiding portraying women and children among their ranks, so they didn’t appear too sympathetic. Quite aside from the fact that that's a kind of ridiculous and sexist position to take especially given that one of the comic's current most threatening villains is in fact female, this just turns the dingoes into cardboard cutouts of villains instead of an interesting opposing faction in this world's political landscape. I mean, how much more interesting would they be if the story bothered to humanize them, make them relatable? But of course, that would mean that Penders would have to portray his precious echidna society as less than honorable for discriminating against them, and we can't have that, so instead they're all just military hardasses who love xenophobia and hate democracy. Hell, even the actual Nazis had more depth to their evil actions than the dingoes. And, to be fair, I know that this arc is written by Karl, not Penders, but he's just building on everything that Penders has established here, so I'm still putting the blame on Penders.

Anyway, the heroes make quick work of the dingoes stationed in the camp, though Knuckles takes a bad blow that Sonic has to save him from due to his lack of powers. Knuckles begins to protest at being helped, but he's suddenly drowned out by chanting… from the echidna slaves they've just freed. They're all bowing down to him and calling him the Avatar, hailing his return. A flabbergasted Knuckles spots Remington among the crowd and asks him what the hell is going on, and Remington explains that there's been a bit of a, eh, religious revival shall we say, among the echidnas on the island ever since he returned from the dead. Apparently, there's an old prophecy from the Ancient Walkers stating that someone will come back from the dead and deliver everyone on the island from their suffering, and, well, Knuckles fits the first part of that criteria. However, he'd barely come back from the dead before Eggman made his move on the island a year ago, preventing Knuckles from returning until now.

So things have kind of deteriorated to a severe degree in Knuckles' absence. Echidnaopolis is now Dingo City, and the dingoes are led not by General Stryker, who is conspicuously absent, but instead General Kage, a cyborg underling of Eggman's in charge of finding the Master Emerald somewhere on the island. Of course that's what Eggman is really after here, and they've captured Locke with the intention of getting the location from him one way or the other. He's been chained upside down in some dark room, and Kage has been torturing him nonstop for the past few days trying to get him to crack, to no avail. Eggman merely encourages Kage over video call to keep it up, while we transition to the Lava Reef Zone, which is where Knuckles has led all the rescued echidnas to, away from the prison camp. He's here because this is approximately where the message informing him of his father's capture originated from, but suddenly the group finds themselves surrounded by smoke, and out of the smoke steps an army of Dark Legion soldiers, surrounding them with weapons drawn…

Mobius 25 Years Later: My Dinner with Sonic

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Jason Jensen

…but who cares about all that interesting plot stuff when we can watch some forty-something moms chat next to a pool where their annoying kids and husbands are playing? Apparently, despite their husbands' rivalry, Julie-Su and Sally have actually become pretty good friends over the years, and lament that they barely get together anymore because of Knuckles and Sonic's hatred of one another. Sally is upset because of how distant Sonic has been acting lately - according to her, he barely talks to anyone he doesn't have to anymore, including Tails, whom he hasn’t spoken to in three whole years now! Excuse me, what?! Okay, Sonic and Knuckles at least have some precedent for their rivalry, however weak that precedent is, but I cannot even begin to imagine a world where Sonic just straight up ghosts his best friend for apparently no reason. Literally, no reason is given! He just doesn't like Tails anymore now! Also, in this timeline, Tails is married to Mina and he's moved to Downunda, because why the hell not? Who needs to make sense or give reasons for anything in their plot? Oh, but that's not all! If you thought that was the extent of Sonic's incredibly out-of-character writing, you thought wrong!

That's right - Sonic the forty-one-year-old father, war hero, and king of an entire nation is apparently so petty about not being able to hit a volleyball in the pool that he thinks it's acceptable to shove his own young son under the water so he can get to the ball instead. And this isn't just some case of me taking these panels out of context - on the very next page Manik rightfully calls him out on this, only for Sonic to irritably say that Manik has been "getting in his face all afternoon" and that this was the only way he could get to play with the ball. And then, just as if to rub this in our horrified faces, Knuckles also comes over and points out how terrible of an action this is, and when Manik speaks up SONIC FORCES HIM UNDER THE WATER AGAIN TO GET HIM TO STOP TALKING. I just… I cannot even begin to express how bad this is. This is literally the opposite of Sonic the Hedgehog. You cannot get further off the mark than Penders just has right here. Everything about Sonic's characterization in this arc is bad and inaccurate to who he really is, but this interaction right here is the cake topper, the prime example of just how much Penders does not understand the characters he is trying to write. I can pinpoint this as the exact moment I lost all remaining respect for Penders as a writer. I've defended him before, and I stand by my opinions that I do enjoy many of his earlier stories for the comic, but this is a goddamn travesty. Penders. Needs. To. Stop.

*sigh* We have to finish today's issue, so let's… let's just get to the end. Everyone goes inside for dinner, with Sonia and Manik heading out to play with Lara-Su while the adults have dinner together, because apparently they're so stuffy they don't even let their own kids eat with them. Knuckles and Sonic start arguing at the table, big shocker there, while Abby desperately tries to serve them dessert and their boring wives try to rein them in.

Are we gonna hear anything about what the "drone problem" or the "Overlander uprising" entailed? Those sound too interesting, so NOPE! Instead, the kids walk by and overhear the argument and promise each other they'll never fight like their parents do, while Manik tries to put the moves on Lara-Su, who is not having it. The argument ends when both Knuckles and Sonic belch simultaneously while their wives scold them disapprovingly - I think Penders is trying to go for a comedy movie sketch type thing here where classical music ramps up in hilarious intensity behind the bickering over the family dinner before everything ends on a few sharp notes from the string section, but it just comes off as utterly cringeworthy. Knuckles finally - finally! - manages to get to the point of this entire arc, which is to tell Sonic about how the world is ending. Yes, it took this long for him to tell the main character of this goddamn comic about the main conflict of this goddamn arc. Kill me. Someone please kill me.

…are you kidding me?! You mean all this time we could have been exploring the ramifications of a planetwide environmental disaster caused by dimensional travel, and the possibility of having to evacuate the planet's population into space, and instead we got to watch two boring husbands belch at each other over goddamn dinner?! I'm done. I'm so done. Everything about this sucks and I hate it. Ken Penders, if I ever see you in person, I will be throwing these hands.

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 138 #writer: karl bollers #writer: ken penders #pencils: jon gray #pencils: steven butler #colors: jason jensen

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