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grimmswan · 2 years

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Orchid Island

One shot for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

A Tropical get away will provide Omega Emma and Alpha Killian with the chance to meet. And a chance to Bond.

Orchid Island was a special getaway providing someone a chance to be introduced to their potential mate. If their instincts aligned, they would be given a cabana and a hut to join as a mated pair.

The island resort was exclusive to Alphas and Omegas. Only Betas were employed, and even they were only around when providing refreshments or other necessities. Other than that, they were to remain as far away from the mating beings as possible.

Each Alpha and Omega was flown to the private island in a small charter plane. Unless it was a boat transporting supplies or staff, no other vessel was allowed entry. Beta guards were employed for the sole purpose of ensuring the safety and privacy of the guests.

Some say the island calls to the Alphas and the Omegas who feel drawn to the place at the same time as their potential mate. Others claim that it is the primal instincts that guide the being when their perfect other half longs for a bond.

Whatever the case, Emma Swan and her friends found themselves as the latest arrivals to the lush tropical paradise.

“Are you sure about this, MM?”

“Trust me Emma. This place has a one hundred percent success rate. Any Alpha and Omega yearning to find a mate always finds one.”

“I hope you’re right. I’m tired of going through my heats with only a toy for relief. I feel like if I don’t have an Alpha pin me down and claim me soon, I’m going to go insane.” Ruby huffed, already keeping her sharp eyes out for any sexy Alpha hotties.

Betas wearing crisp white uniforms guided them to the Omega quarters, where they would be staying until they found an Alpha match.

Emma noticed an abundance of the color fuchsia everywhere, as well as the scent of sweet tropical fruits.

“I wonder what the Alpha quarters look like?”

“You can ask your mate after you meet him.” A Beta woman answered Ruby’s question as she walked into the room. “But I’m sure there will be other things you will have on your mind at that point.” Looking at the rest of the Omegas, she said, “I want to welcome you all to Orchid Island. I’m sure you will have a wonderful time here. Though you are no doubt here to find a mate, please do not put pressure on yourself to do so. Allow yourself to relax and let things happen in their own way.”

"I can't believe I let you guys talk me into coming here."

"None of us are having much luck meeting Omegas. This place promises every Alpha and Omega will find their perfect mate."

"But what if we don't live anywhere near our potential mate? How can it be perfect when there's a chance of being separated again?"

"I don't know how it works, I just know that every person I've talked to who has been here has met the love of their life."

Killian Jones left out that he may have had an ace up his sleeve. He knew that the Omega he desired most was going to be on this island.

He had yearned for Emma Swan since the first day he saw her take down an Alpha who was trying to get too handsy with her.

He saw her regularly in the bar him and his brother owned, but there was never a good time to talk to her.

And then one night he overheard her and her friends discussing going to a tropical resort they just heard about. The moment he found out where they were going and when, he was booking tickets for himself and his friends. Then he did some research about exactly what Orchid Island was, just so he could convince them all to go.

It was unsurprisingly easy. Both Graham and David were pretty sick and tired of the single Alpha lifestyle.

Killian hoped the magic of the island would allow him to spend some time with Emma and let him know once and for all if there could be a future with her.

A tray of tropical drinks, complete with tiny colorful umbrellas was presented to the guests as they entered the gathering lodge.

A live band on the stage provided fun background music for the guests to get to know each other in the well lit space.

The intoxicating scent of the tropical flowers filled the night air.

It all lent to an environment that felt peaceful and relaxed.

The music stopped when a Beta woman walked up onto the stage and introduced herself as the Resort Hostess.

“Wellcome All. We who operate the resort can guarantee the safety and wellbeing for all. For each rotation, there are no new guests who are brought in until the day after all previous guests have left. For the first day, we are all simply getting to know one another. Alphas and Omegas can meet and discuss whatever should come to mind. But by the end of the night, all Omegas go to their quarters and all Alphas return to theirs. There will be no mating on the first night. Tomorrow, Alphas and Omegas will be tested to see who is compatible with whom. The elements of the island lend themselves to providing the ideal conditions for finding a true mate. If a suitable mate is on this island, then you will find them and join with them. If anyone has not found a mate, then they will be offered pampering and other fun singles activities. For those who do find mates, their things will be transferred to the other side of the island. Each newly mated pair will be given a private hut and a cabana on the beach, to partake in activities for couples. The next three days are yours to do with whatever you like, to spend however you like. The last day you pack your things and return to your life, hopefully with a new mate.”

The Beta host did not mention that it was very rare for anyone to be partaking in the singles activities.

In all of the time the island had been hosting mating gatherings, only two kinds of beings did not find a mate.

1: Those who were too young and immature, and therefore not yet ready for a mate.

Those in that category were often dragged to the island by well meaning friends and or family members who were trying to force things because they thought their loved one was lonely.

Many of them would return of their own choosing years later, and would happily find mates.

2:Those that though they were fully mature physically, were not suitable lifemate material.

These were the beings who didn’t fully understand what it was to be a lifemate. Alphas that wanted to completely control an Omega. Omegas that wanted to manipulate Alphas and play them against each other.

Both sexes had been noticed to attempt to seduce and become intimate with more than one partner. It never worked out in their favor, since everyone else who came to the island was looking for a life partner, and could always sense who was and who was not suited for them.

Many of them had to be escorted off and banned from the island. There were incidents of them attempting to interfere with the matings of the couples who had paired up.

A few of those in the second category were rejected former companions who were hoping to get their ex back and or sabotage their chance at finding someone new.

The Beta host truly hoped that she wouldn’t have to be dealing with anyone from the second category.

Becoming intoxicated by anything other than the perfume of the tropical flowers or the scent of their mate was highly discouraged. So drinks were switched to strictly the non alcoholic kind.

“You are all here to find a mate. And one can not do that if their head is clouded by artificial means.” The Beta Hostess explained.

There were a few in attendance who seemed irritated by the rules, but most of the guests agreed with the idea.

The real fun to be had was when they found their lifemate.

Killian, spotting Emma, made his way to her, hoping it was the first step toward a life with her.

“Hello, my name’s Killian. Will you allow me the honor of a dance?”

She thought the Alpha was incredibly sexy, but she hesitated. “I”m Emma. I would like to, but I feel the need to warn you, I don’t know how good I will be.”

“As with most things love, there is only one rule, pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

Emma allowed Killian to pull her onto the dance floor.

As they moved together, his eyes never left her face. The intensity in the way he was looking at her set her heart racing.

“I have a confession to make. I’ve seen you in the Rabbit Hole on multiple occasions. You were always there meeting someone, so I never felt it wise to approach you.”

Emma laughed. “I’m glad you didn’t. Or you would have cost me a lot of money.” Realizing how that might sound, she clarified. “I’m a bail bonds enforcer. It’s my job to lure in bale jumpers. Every one I bring in earns me money. Since I’m an Omega, it’s easy to lure in Alphas who have broken the law. I get underestimated, and then I get the element of surprise and the feeling of satisfaction when I take down Alphas twice my size.”

“I must say, I’m impressed. I sensed there was something special about you, but I had no idea just how amazing you were.”

Emma could tell Killian’s compliment was completely sincere and felt her cheeks grow warm.

All too soon, the resort host announced the end of that day's festivities.

“All Alphas and Omegas are advised to return to their rooms and get some rest. Tomorrow's planned events will reveal if your potential lifemate is here.”

There was obvious disappointment on the faces of both the Alphas and the Omegas. The attraction was already strong. Looks of longing were cast as each group was escorted back to their designated rooms.

“I have a strong feeling we are not going to be single after tomorrow.” Mary Margaret stated.

“That’s an understatement.” Ruby practically groaned. “I nearly presented for Graham right there in the meeting area.”

Emma knew exactly what Ruby was talking about. It took everything in her not to rub her backside against Killian’s groin and expose her neck for him to mark with a claiming bite. She could already sense that he was the Alpha for her.

In the Alpha quarters, there were similar statements.

“How am I supposed to sleep knowing that cute little Omega is so close?” David groaned.

“You think you got problems? I swear, that Omega, Ruby, smelled like she was about to enter her heat. I could drill through steel with what I’m dealing with right now.”

Killian could barely hear what David and Graham were saying. It was taking all of his focus and willpower not to rush to where Emma was and claim her that very night.

The hours until morning were certain to feel as if they were dragging on for an eternity.

The next day, everyone was eager to get started. There was a rush to get ready and make themselves presentable for their potential mate.

A Chase through the island was the test for the potential life mates.

All Omegas were to be given a fifteen minute head start. And if their Alpha could find them through the heavily scented forest, then there was no doubt that they were true mates.

The Alphas were kept locked away in the dining hall until fifteen minutes were up. No one wanted to risk an Alpha starting the pursuit too soon. Or having an unfair advantage because he saw the direction in which his desired Omega went.

The Alphas immediately started to become restless the moment they heard the giggle of the Omegas as they started off.

There was no clock in the hall, meaning they had to wait for the doors to be opened to know when the time was up.

The moment they heard the locks click, every Alpha was running toward the doors, which thankfully for the well beings of the Betas, had opened quickly.

The island was large and the number of guests was small, meaning that they soon all lost sight of one another.

Killian focused on tracking Emma’s scent. He had memorized it while they had been dancing, determined to trace it no matter how many smells were in the area.

Killian stopped suddenly when he heard Emma’s voice calling for him. He looked to where the sound came from and saw long blonde hair among some dark pink orchids. But his senses were telling him Emma had gone in a different direction. Though the perfume of the flowers was heavy, they could not hide Emma’s unique scent.

Dismissing the voice as him mishearing things and the vision as someone else, Killian followed his instincts and returned to the chase through the tropical forest.

In a short time, he caught sight of her. She ducked behind a tree, peeking out at him flirtatiously before pushing off and heading toward a clearing with a small waterfall and a pool of crystal clear water.

Emma, still at a distance from Killian, keeping eye contact with him, unclasped her dress, allowing it to pool at her feet.

Killian’s member became rock hard as his hungry gaze devoured Emma’s fully naked body.

The tips of her fingers trailed along her side. His eyes followed her path as if in a trance as he admired his Omega. But was soon brought out of it when her sultry voice promised, “If you can catch me, you can have me.”

With all of his strength and speed, he pursued the woman he desired as she bounded away with a naughty gleam in her eye.

She was quick. And quite agile. Years of having to avoid unwanted touches and containing misbehaving Alphas had made Emma’s body a finely tuned machine.

Killian was certain Emma would be caught only if she wanted to be, and that he just needed to prove he would never give up chasing her.

Killian nearly had her when he was suddenly halted by a tree branch snagging on his pants. Only the tips of his fingers were able to graze her lovely skin.

Emma giggled as she darted far from his reach.

With a growl of frustration, he tore the offending trousers from his body and continued his pursuit of his little blonde vixen.

Both completely naked now, they chased each other around the clearing.

Killian in all of his glory made Emma hesitant to test his skills for much longer.

He had already proven his determination to have her as his mate. And had revealed, in more ways than one, that he was fully equipped to provide Emma everything she needed in a mate.

Both driven by desire, him to have and her to be had, the game was brought to an end. Killian was finally able to get a hold of Emma. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, determined to never let her go.

He maneuvered them and pinned her against a very large boulder. They were both laughing at the conclusion of their little game until Emma’s backside brushed against Killian’s manhood.

They both let out a needy moan. Emma widened her legs, encouraging Killian to rub his manhood between her folds until they were both slick from her moisture.

“Do you consent?” Killian asked huskily, his lips brushing along the Omega’s ear.

“Yes.” Emma whimpered, nearly disparate to finally be claimed by the sexy Alpha.

It seemed fitting for their first time to be outside, surrounded by lush tropical foliage and the sound of the waterfall.

His instincts told him how to touch her and where.

He tilted her head back to claim her lips with his own. And used the other hand to knead and squeeze a breast.

Keeping his mouth sealed to hers, he plunged into her Omega cunny with his Alpha cock.

“Oh that feels so good.” Emma moaned, angling her hips back every time Killian thrust forward.

“Aye love, best I’ve ever felt.” Killian groaned.

It felt as though a thousand silk bands were wrapping themselves around the lovers, until their very souls were fused together, never to be severed again.

He never stopped kissing her, or touching her. He explored as much of her as he could.

“Alpha, claim me!” Emma called out. Killian was helpless to refuse. His inner beast demanded he heed the call of his true mate and bond them together forever.

The bite was the thing she needed to push her over the edge. Her walls tightened with a vise-like grip on his expanding knot.

He held her trembling body tightly, but tenderly, kissing wherever he could.

After resting a while, Killian and Emma realized that they were starving for food. They agreed that it would be a wise idea to get dressed and find out where they would be staying now that they were mated.

“Congratulations to the two of you.” The Beta hostess greeted the couple. “You passed the test of the forest. You did not become confused by the heavy perfume of the flowers. And you were not distracted by the visions the forest creates to trick unworthy Alphas. You have found your mate and can now enjoy the wonders the island provides for lovers.”

“This makes three out of three for your group. The two Omegas that you arrived with, Miss Swan, have each found a mate with the two Alphas you arrived with, Mr. Jones. We will set you up with a hut near theirs so that you can all discuss your new found happiness.”

“Oh, Emma, you have a mate now too!” Mary Margaret shouted with glee, running up and giving her friend a hug.

“And he’s a friend of your new mate.” Emma revealed with a grin.

“Really, that’s wonderful! No one will feel left out when we’re talking about mated life. And we will all have so much to talk about. And we don’t have to worry about our mates not getting along.”

“Isn’t she the sweetest? So worried about maintaining peace.” David beamed, wrapping his arm around his Omega.

“We all seem to have gotten pretty lucky. We each found a mate that is perfect for us.” Graham commented, standing behind Ruby with his arms around her.

“Looks like Mary Margaret was right.” Ruby chimed in. “This place really can help whoever wants a mate to find one.”

The mated pairs were escorted to their huts, and informed of the things that would be provided for them.

Emma would later realize she had barely paid attention to how many mated pairs there were. But to be fair, Killian was really good at keeping her attention focused on him.

In the place for eating, relaxing and being entertained, there was a collection of large chairs, “outdoor daybeds” a resort staff member informed the couples.

To Emma, they looked like large wicker baskets turned on their sides, mostly closed off except for the opening for entering and exiting. Each had a thick soft mattress and a lot of pillows.

“They’re similar to nests.” Mary Margaret observed.

“Perfect for an Omega comfort.” David smiled at his mate.

“It would seem a shame to pass up the opportunity to enjoy them to their full extent. If you’ll excuse us, Graham and I are going to keep getting in touch with our wild side. We can talk about how happy we are to be mated when we get home.” Ruby said, pulling her grinning mate with her into a daybed.

Each couple settled into one of their own and enjoyed the platters of food that were brought to them.

Live music and entertainment were provided as each couple continued to get to know one another.

Clothes were discarded as the need to press flesh to flesh grew stronger.

As they lounged together naked in the outdoor daybed, Killian brushed his fingertips around Emma’s breasts. He marveled at the beauty of his Omega. She was everything he had ever dreamed of, and more.

Emma was just as pleased with her Alpha, he was everything she wanted. Her fingertips drifted slowly down his treasure trail.

Killian’s own fingers needed to explore and caress the beauty, and made their along her most sensitive places.

He kept his eyes on her, gazing in admiration while his hand traveled down between her legs.

She gripped tight to his wrist, unsure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer.

He noticed her jaw was clamped shut and understood her concern.

“You can be as loud as you want, love. I promise you that everyone else is far too lost in their own encounters to give any notice to what we are doing.”

Realizing he had a point, that no one would care what she and Killian were doing since they were no doubt doing the exact thing, Emma allowed him to continue.

With her relaxed and open, Killian proceeded to bring Emma to ecstasy. He pressed his thumb to her clit and rubbed in a circular motion.

“oh!” Emma called out, her chest heaved as a warm pleasure began to build.

“This is what I long to see every day and every night for the rest of my life; your beautiful face when you're consumed with ecstasy.”

If Emma could have formed words, she would have told him she wanted to hear his voice for the rest of her life. But the very sound of it had taken her to the point of sweet bliss.

But Killian didn’t stop his ministrations. He pushed her past the point of discomfort and back to hot pleasure.

“Just take me Killian, please, I want you to.” Emma gasped as she felt herself on the verge of a second orgasm.

“Not yet, my darling. I want to see you come undone, again.”

The coil inside her wound tighter and tighter. Killian’s skilled fingers stroked Emma’s little bud with just the right amount of pressure. The coil snapped. A sweet wave of Euphoria washed over her. It was so intense that no sound could be heard when she opened her mouth to cry out.

Emma’s beauty when she was lost in ecstasy was so great that Killian just had to claim her lips with his own and thrust his tongue into the cavern of her mouth the way he would thrust his member into her quim.

She brought her hand up from gripping his shoulder to cup his head, running her fingers through his hair as she did so.

Killian continued to stroke her through, causing her body to tremble with the aftershocks.

When their lips parted for air, Emma looked into his eyes and murmured, “More.”

To let him know exactly what she meant, she moved his hand from her center. Emma then pulled Killian on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist and aligning his member to her core.

“You’re so greedy, my Omega.” Killian groaned, sliding into her. “I love it.”

Emma arched her body, throwing her head back.

“Yes!” She cried out, long past caring who could hear her in the throes of passion.

Killian may have reveled in knowing he had brought Emma so much pleasure that she had been able to forget herself, if he also had not been brought to mindless ecstasy.

Their bodies began to glisten with sweat. Each reached for something only the other could provide.

Killian became torn between wanting to fasten his lips to Emma’s, or leave her mouth uncovered so he could hear her shout her pleasure. He wanted to look at her. And he wanted to kiss every inch of her.

Ultimately, it was Emma who decided for him. Her little nips and bites along his shoulders drove him wild, taking him beyond the point of consciousness.

He took her mouth with his own, entwining his tongue with hers.

Her walls squeezed tight around his shaft, fluttering and contracting, causing his knot to emerge.

Their arms tightened around one another as their pleasure began to intensify.

Three hard thrusts into her was all it took to make them both reach that point of release.

The warmth of the island night and the heat from one another’s bodies made it easy and comfortable to sleep in the outdoor spots the couples had been provided.

Which meant that many lovers would fall asleep in one another's arms when their bodies were spent and sated, then wake naked with their equally naked mates body pressed against them. And then their carnal desire would be renewed.

Killian and Emma were in that moment between sleep and awake. The consciousness was dormant, allowing instinct to be in control.

Killian was aware enough to know his mate was naked in his arms. The primal part of him needed to have his beloved.

His hands slid over her. His body covered hers. His lips brushed along her face and her neck.

“Killian” Emma breathed his name, the sound going straight to his manhood, stirring his desire for her.

“Emma” was moaned from his lips when he joined with her.

Pure instinct controlled them both. Their movements slow and languid while their conscious minds gradually become aware.

Killian’s kisses grew deeper and lasted longer. The thrusting of his hips took on a more purposeful rhythm.

Emma’s eyes flew open and she called out as a great wave of bliss crashed over her.

Her eyes were filled with love as she looked up at Killian moving above her, making love to her.

It was the best way possible to wake up. Body filled with pleasure from the virile Alpha pumping his cock into her relaxed and willing body, and surrounded by the view of a tropical island beach.

He was just as in awe of her as she was in him.

He was amazed at how pliant she was, willing to be manipulated into any position he desired. And she seemed to greatly enjoy every one of them. He wanted to please her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life pleasing her.

“I’ll be so good to you, my love. I will fill your every moment with pleasure. And I will only stop when you tell me too.”

“Don’t you dare stop. Never stop.” Emma gasped in a lungful of air as she tried to pull Killlian deeper inside of her.

The shear curtains offered the illusion of privacy without blocking any of the breeze.

The cool air caressed Emma’s skin, soothing the flush of heat.

The mated pairs along the beach who were enjoying the same activities Emma and Killian were enjoying might as well have been on another island. For the two, the whole world was reduced to that little cabana.

Killian’s massive member thrusting into Emma’s tight heat was the only thing that existed.

“You feel so good. My sweet Omega. How lovely you look when you’re speared on my cock.”

Emma, panting and gasping, raked her claws over his arms. She loved when her Alpha talked while he took her. Her body seemed oversensitized, eager for everything her Alpha offered.

One arm under her lifted her, forcing her back to arch and bringing her plump breasts closer to his greedy mouth.

His tongue slid around her nipple then pinched it between his teeth, sending lightning bolts of sensation through her.

She dug her fingers through his hair, holding him to her as he suckled her breasts. She yanked and pulled, unable to control her movements with her body taken over by pleasure.

But it didn’t stop Killian from taking her to the very heights of ecstasy. And beyond.

The days passed quickly, seeming all to blend together as just moments of pleasure and passion.

“We’ll be going back home tomorrow. I wish we didn’t have to leave this island.” Emma sighed.

She and Killian were swaying gently in a hammock. Her head rested on his chest while he held her.

“I know what you mean, love. These past few days have been amazing. I dislike that when we go back we won’t get to spend every minute together. We’ll just have to snatch whatever fun we can when we can.”

She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. “What if we’re not like this,” Emma gestured to their position, “back home.” What if it’s only the magic of the island that had made us so passionate?”

Killian’s hold on her tightened. “I told you, Emma, I’ve wanted you since I first set eyes on you. Everything in me says we could not be more perfect for one another. And you’ll see. Our life together may not be as tranquil as it is here on the island, but it will be just as passionate. How can it not be?”

Killian took Emma’s lips with his own, and in his kiss she felt his full devotion to the bond they shared.

Then she was assured that they would always feel the passion they felt for one another during their stay on Orchid Island.

#captain swan #once upon a time #cssns 2022 #cssns22 #killian jones #emma swan #cs smut #captain swan supernatural summer #alpha/beta/omega verse #fantasy #captain swan fan fiction #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan au #grimmswanfic

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chaos-caffeinated · 3 years

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Emotions help you remember: Final Draft

Alright everyone, the story got too long to post, so this is the final piece to connect all three. Please enjoy!! It was a pleasure working on this part!

A silver knife was revealed from the black coat, the face hidden in the shadows as he twirled the knife in his hand. Frozen from shock, you stood there with your lips trembling slightly as your voice froze in fear until you felt your foot jolt and you turn to run from the mysterious man behind you. You let go of the coat that were on your shoulders and used the strength you had to run for your life. You cried out in pain as your feet throbbed in the heels you were and the frustration of having such a bulbous dress when a memory flashed in your head: Madam Hopkins had given you insightful information, an additional information regarding the dress she was lending you.

“(Y/N), I want you to take this dress instead of just a dress you typically wear, you should wear something nice, you are a tailor: be one. I shall even grant you this special one I made with my new inventions on it. Just pull on this thread here and it will fall off.”

“Fall off? Madam such a dress could stir controversy-”

“Controversy, controversy, it won’t be long before women will be able to wear this with confidence like moi!~" before she spun after she tore away her skirt to reveal the shorts underneath with the visible garters.

Desperately looking for the thread, you felt your chest compress as you were beginning to tire out. You heard the rapid footsteps before you heard a nearing voice, “As entertaining you were, I must end it already-”

“No!” You cried out before your hand grabbed a handful of your dress and pulled it away desperately. You now felt many chills on your bare legs as the shorts, fitting perfectly against your skin, were exposing you into the cold night and you blushed at the vulnerable position. She had made a replica of her shorts with garters, at first you were confused as to why you felt the garters in place when you first put on the dress.

Blushing a dark red from the vulnerability, your body felt much lighter to move as the skirt flew back, tangling the man’s legs only to cause him to trip over it.

The man was in shock to see the skirt fly back, not even thinking for a second that it was possible before he watched his vision focused from the girl ahead to the dried up leaves and mud. Landing face-first on the ground, he let out a short grunt before he got frustrated, blushing from his embarrassing situation and turned to sit up and using the knife in hand to rip the skirt in pieces. He growled, “Now I will not take you down with ease!” He slammed his knife-bearing fist against the dirt.

“I’m afraid you won’t take anyone for that matter.” A voice rang within the shadows, a mixture of a windy laced with an ominous tone, “Mr. Kindred.”

Flinching from the novel voice, the man on the ground looked around in an attempt to view his next victim, shouting, “Who are you?! Make yourself visible!!”

“My, what a rude guest, tormenting the guest of honor as well as shamelessly ordering around.”

The man on the ground was still looking around before he met with a pair of piercing red eyes, a chill ran down the man’s back, fear entering immediately as he began to drag himself back, “What the hell are you?! Get away from me!”

“And now ordering to step back? What a delusional human you are indeed. However, my young master has ordered me to ensure that you, as well as Miss. (L/N) return back to the manor.”

Dried leaves were crunched as the footsteps got closer, “Unfortunately, I only need one of you alive,” His voice growled towards the end as he appeared out of the shadows in his sharp butler outfit, his shoe stepping over the gravel. It was silent, surprised to see the man on the ground watching the butler walk out of the shadows and his eyes were back to the dark eyes of his.

This is what his victims must’ve felt, unease, nothingness, but also knowing that everything will stop. Every woman he killed and dismembered were all pleading for their life hopelessly, knowing very well they were going to die for his sadistic pleasure. He felt chill after chill from his presence and he opened his mouth to say something only to stutter or mouth words.

Fear...that is what he felt, fear of a being stronger than him. Fear of losing control.

“Oh...cat got your tongue?” The butler taunted as he leaned forward slightly, “You seemed very sure of yourself that you would get away from yet another merciless murder tonight in my master’s grounds. However, as the Head Butler of the Phantomhive Manor, I can not allow that to happen...for you see, I am one hell of a butler.”

Gripping the knife in his hand, Mr. Kindred had the realization that he had the weapon in his hand, something to fight as his expression slowly began to change, “You have nothing, butler...nothing! I at least ha-” He raised up to slash at him only for a ripping and broken sound was heard ahead of him. It seemed so slow as he saw his own arm twisted horribly, body instinctively cringing and screaming out in agony as he fell back onto the ground.

“A pesky knife. I know what you’re feeling...hopelessness, a rush- not a kind one either- controlling your whole body as the idea that I can take your life-” he snapped his fingers before flashing his teeth, startling the man below him.

“Like that...and you don’t like that idea because all this time you believed you were much stronger...simply slashing women's throats...while I can do...so...”

He inched closer and closer to the shaking man below him, the dangerous smirk plastered on the demon’s face, his eyes shifting to his fuchsia color, “much worse than you humans can even grasp.” The air around shifted, a weight so immense you could die of suffocation. The man flinched when he saw from his peripheral feathers falling through. He looked up once again at the demon only for him to be covered completely by the falling feathers. The amount of fear possessed by a single man, scarred forever at the interaction.

The agonized screams traveled far and beyond, but not even the hypnotizing music can break free the audience’s attention, but one.

The screams reached to your ears no doubt, only pushing you further and further away into the deep forest.

Sebastian remained in the position for a second before huffing, “What a mess indeed-...” He glanced to the side, only for his eyes to widen at the skirt you were earlier in the ball entangled between the man’s legs. His eyebrows quirked, “Is she...?” He asked himself, placing a finger over his chin, before his smirk became more mischievous, releasing a chuckle as he removed the skirt, “Miss. Hopkins, you have aimed to surprise me even without your presence.”

You panted desperately, leaning against a tree. You tried covering your mouth, you shook in place as you tried to get smaller to not be spotted. tears streamed down your cheeks as shook. Having not realize that absence of the murder, your mind raced images, and the mere fact that he could be taunting you by making you believe you were safe was terrifying enough. Your eyes wandered in many places, side to side, up and down, any clues that he was nearby. You didn’t even know how far you were from the manor, to get to Ciel, to get to Sebastian-

“My, my, has mon chaton lost herself in the woods? What a pity indeed.” A sound so soothing, and calming with a tinge of mystery wrapped around it like a bouquet. You thought you had gone mad, to need him so much that you envisioned him rescuing you. His voice alone calmed your essence, yet your eyes aimed towards the source. You yelped and jumped up, running a few steps before turning to face body. Anything and everything kept you edge, even if you were unarmed, you were willing to even use a stick to once again distract him.

Sebastian, once again, appeared from the shadows under the light from the moon, lightly smirking towards you with his arms raised slightly in defense. In his right hand, however, he was holding a bunched-up skirt, “Everything is alright, my lady, your assailant is no longer in the premise. It has been handled.”

You gulped, still shaking from the anxiety, “N-no, he is still here-”

“If he was, this skirt would have been deemed useless as a capturing device.” He took a few steps forward, “Which I very much recommend wearing, my dear. It’s not only cold outside, but you are improper at the moment.” He guided your emotions into a calm one, “I promise you, my lady, no one is here other than you and I.” He reached out his hand, awaiting for yours.

Hesitating, but trusting him, you raised your shaky hand on top of his hand, “...I could have died...” you commented.

“But you did not, my dear. For as long as I am by your side, you will never go through that.” He raised your hand towards his lips to place a kiss before slowly helping you back into the skirt, “There. You look as wonderful as before. Now then, shall we go back?”

You took another shaky step before you yelped from the sudden rush of Sebastian lifting you in his arms, “You are still unsure, so I will carry you, my lady while you rest up. Do leave your concerns with me, I will be by your side for the rest of the night if that helps reassure you.”

You nodded slightly, confirming as you pressed against him, “Please...Sebastian.”

He smirked slightly at you as he proceeded forward to the mansion.

With you standing next to the earl himself, and Sebastian by your side, most of the guests could not help but glance towards your way. You noticed some women responded ill with their eyes, someone commenting to the person beside them about you as they walk by, and you could not help but sigh deeply, “...I believe I feel better...I must retire to my room now. I do not want to continue spoiling the party.” You were saddened to have to see the party end so soon, already stepping away when you heard the same voice that managed to wrap around your essence speak.

“But my lady, I seem to recall you wanted to have at least one dance?” Sebastian asked, turning halfway to meet your eyes.

You looked downwards with a sad look, “I did..but...it just... feels off now with what occurred...”

Now it was Ciel’s turn to speak, “He has been arrested quietly, (Y/N)…his presence will no longer disturb your moment of happiness.” He stared at the ball before he slightly turned to you with a small smirk, not of arrogance, and not of confidence, it was a soft, gentle one, “Do not let an opportunity pass by like that. Enjoy it wile you can.”

You stared at the earl for a few seconds before your eyes trailed off, thinking of your choices, “...Yes, Lord Phantomhive.” Then you walked towards Sebastian, surprising him the slightest at your upfront being, “Sebastian. I would like to have my dance with you.”

Sebastian was slightly surprised, but at the same time he was not. Smirking softly, he tried changing your mind, “But my lady, I am simply a butler, there are multiple chaperons whom would enjoy to dance with you.”

Feeling the slight confidence to smile softly at him, you responded, “Lord Phantomhive said not waste the moment, and it is you who I do not want to waste the opportunity to dance with.”

Ciel smirked at your quick-thinking, glancing at your incoming strength as he viewed his butler look slightly surprised, yet accepting. He watched as Sebastian, now smiling softly, bowed slightly with his hand over his chest, “Very well then, my lady,” he offered his hand in the same position as he raised his crimson red eyes to yours, “It would be an honor to have this dance with you.”

As he guided you onto the dance floor with a few other couples dancing to the music, you sensed something change within the musicians. As a matter of fact, you sensed the atmosphere change with the strand that the lead violin was stroking.

You both stood in front of each other, feeling his hand gently place on your hip and the other awaiting for your hand. It was then you felt the sparks, the tingling sensations he sent over, the way your body responded to his touch, triggering memories from earlier. You blushed, your cheeks tinted softly with a red shade as you place your hand on his.

The room was silent for a few seconds before-

youtube

Voom-Ba-bum, Voom-Ba-bum, Voom-Ba-bum, Voom-Ba-bum...

The way the violins and cello captured the way your heart was pounding loud in your ears was extraordinary because as soon as it started, the more it became evident of how much he had influenced you: he completely corrupted you for himself. The way Sebastian lead their dance in a perfect unison, despite you never learning the dance before surprised you even. He swayed with the notes in the air, the violins carving a path and him following it, or could it be the other way around? It was all so warming, enveloping your body as a whole to the rhythm of the strokes before you listened to the next part with your heart. You looked up to see his gorgeous, captivating eyes once more before you felt yourself weaker, and weaker, and weaker-

(Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum)

The way he approached his head near yours while moving was enticing, you needed him close to you, your body needed him-

“My lady, I must say, as we dance so close together...I cannot stop envisioning our ‘studies’...” He smirked softly as he squeezed your hip ever so softly. His grip tightened when he heard you gasp softly, trying to regain as much strength needed, “...P-please...not here.” your voice trembled. You were weak enough that any word he let out would not help your situation.

As the music rose in speed and volume, you heard him chuckle, “You remember so well, mon chaton... as expected from my favorite student. I must admit, that even your being has captured me in a way that I never thought would have such an effect...your skin, your hands, your body...the way you begged for me without raising your voice, the way you gasped, the way you moaned...you will never cease to exist in my being...even your bite I will remember very well. Your markings truly changed me...” he whispered.

You whimpered softly, mentally begging him to stop, the images overwhelming you in a state of steam. You were embarrassed, your cheeks tinted ever so dark, once again you can hear your heart pound, but this time it grew louder and louder, beginning to deafening you until you tried biting back with his own medicine, “And what about you...” you chest heaved slightly, the heat radiating from you, “The way you took me without mercy, your weakness and your strength becoming one. The way you felt me like I was your life source, the woman that marked you as hers. The way you clawed me as a desperate need to get ahold of, it all penetrated my thoughts. And for that I blame you Sebastian Michaelis.”

As your list grew, Sebastian’s fascination towards you more and more, internally smiling and breathing deeply. The way you handled yourself with his words was truly amazing. You tried to get at him with his own words, and though it did not work, the effort was there. His own heart pounded, and he refuses, at full, to leave your side.

The music around them rose in tempo once again, the rhythm beating identical to their heart soundings. Neither wanting to leave the other. The want, the yearn, the desperation, the urge was lingering closer and closer and they could not do a single thing. Inching closer and closer to their lips nearly locking, the music ended. They did not make it, yet they remained like that, Sebastian first to react as he smirked and let out a chuckle, “You have done a certain type of damage in me, my lady.” He blushed slightly as he panted ever so slightly.

Panting as well, you responded as quickly, “And you as well...diable.”

Sebastian sucked in air, ready for a comeback when he stood back, bowed, and stood back up, “Well done, my lady. Would you like another dance, or would you like to take a small rest?”

“...No...I think I will retire.” you spoke, but Sebastian capturing the truth behind those words, “Goodnight, Sebastian.” You took both sides of the skirt and bowed slightly before heading to your room.

Subtly, but effectively, Sebastian was able to mask biting inside of his cheek, “Goodnight, my lady. I shall return to you.”

You simply smiled small at him before leaving from the ball.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~

Sebastian had dismissed the guests along with Ciel, his behavior seemed rushed, with each wording having no charisma he usually portrays with many. Some men could understand why, holding a smirk with a tinge of jealousy, but the women saddened from the shortened conversations. It felt so quick, and Ciel noticed as they stepped inside the manor, “I’m guessing this has to do with (Y/N)? You were rather quick to dismiss the guests.”

“I do apologize my lord, but she did make a request of my presence.” He justified, “She said she was not feeling well.”

Ciel suspected for a different reason, but he understood why you would be shaken, “Very well. Do so after I’ve retired.”

“Yes, my lord.” he guided him to his chambers before helping him to his bed.

Meanwhile, you rested in the tub of hot water, sighing with content as you rested your head against the tub, your hands feeling your skin, each giving you a flashback of your affair.

His hot, full lips pressed against yours in a passionate kiss, his dominating groan as he pressed your body close to his.

The flashback ended abruptly as you heard a knock on the door, “My lady?”

Blushing, aside from the temperature, you answered, “Come in.”

The door opened, and coming in was the butler himself you imagined not even ten seconds ago, “From the unfortunate events earlier, I brought you some tea to calm your nerves. How are you feeling?” He asked, closing the door afterwards with a hand, the other holding the tray with great balance.

You took another deep breath, swaying the water in front of you, “I’m feeling better now.” You smiled small, “I am just...focusing on the water...” your voice went softer and softer, your eyes feeling heavier as your body, feeling safe, decided to rest up.

Sebastian gently opened the door to the bathroom to see you close your eyes and he smiled subtly, “I am glad to hear that, my lady. Shall I finish you up and help you to your bed?”

“Mm...no...are you currently free at the moment, Sebastian?” You asked, opening your eyes to meet him with a soft smile.

“My duties have been completed, my lady. I am all yours tonight...” He reciprocated the smile, creating butterflies in your stomach.

“Then,” you rose in a sitting position, your arms crossing over your chest as you leaned forward slightly, “Come join me in the tub please. It’s still hot.” You invited him, “Nothing ever beats a hot bath.”

Eyes widening from the invitation, he rose his fist, the side of his finger covering his lips as he chuckled lightly, “Not even the studies, my lady?”

Blushing already, you simply remained silent as you gently patted the water.

“Your generosity overwhelms me, my lady.” He turned slowly before proceeding to remove the articles from his body. You even shamelessly watched as he removed his clothes.

“Staring is an improper thing to do as a lady.” He teased without turning.

“Mmm...then at this moment I am but a simple being enjoying a wonderful view. I might even reconsider this being better than a hot tub.” You teased back.

“I feel ashamed for not fixing anything about that mouth of yours.” He remarked with a smirk, turning his body to you as he took your chin between his fingers, lifting it in the process. He purposely tilted your head to make eye contact, to make you feel weak in front of him, but you bit back like always.

“I would have enjoyed it, Sebastian...but right now...” you say to increase the anticipation, raising your wet hand to place on his abdomen, only to caress his lean muscles, “I just want to relax...and you are perfect for that need.”

“I am honored to serve you in this way.” His lips slightly part, “Let us begin.”

It felt heavenly, it felt sublime, it felt like a happiness that you have yearn for so long, the missing puzzle to your day-to-day life. You wished to remain in his arms, those strong arms, the ones placed on your sides, resting on your skin. Those same arms that have caused damage, but in such a pleasurable way. You let out a breathy sigh as his fingers brushed against the bruises that were prominent over your body, reminders of his attempt of corruption.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, tilting your head to the side slightly before arching your back. His heat, his presence alone made you want to back out what you said earlier and take him head-on, but for once your mind had different plans.

Sebastian smirked as his hands lightly brushed against your skins, occasionally massaging some parts of your breasts, “If you allow me, my lady, a massage is a suitable, don’t you agree?” He placed his hands on your shoulders, kneading the trapezius. The stiffness in your shoulder caused you to yelp from surprised, the pain threw you off, yet you concentrated on the kneading. The way he pressed harder on a few places than everywhere, making you groan softly made it pleasing.

“My, my. You have a lot of knots, you really must have worked so hard, Lady (Y/N). Working day in and out to please your Madame. You remind me of the essence of a butler, and for that I highly place my respect for you.”

You rested the side of your head on his shoulder, interrupting his massage. His words, his gentle words. Though he may not see it, the fact that he managed to to pull flashbacks forward to you made you numb, and silent. Each event that occurred, the passion that sparked to initiate your education with Madame Hopkins. Madame Hopkins is a savior, a savior that brought you onto your feet once more. The extra thing you needed in your life, her ability to see new when everyone else got stuck in the past. You enjoyed it enough to be a part of it.

Sebastian was surprised to see an extremely soft side, he was not used to the sudden change of heart, to see you so quiet, so vulnerable. His raised his hand behind your head, inching closer and closer to your hair as he smirked with confidence before he stopped.

He felt the cold breeze before feeling drips, his crimson eyes following the path to your teary eyes, “Crying, my lady?” he maneuvered his hand to wipe your tears off, “Has today really brought so many emotions to your eyes?”

You sobbed, “No...Sebastian.” You raised your face to see him eye-to-eye, facing him with your tears, pride enveloping you, “Sebastian, weakness is not shown in the act of crying, is the act of developing.”

Remaining silent from the impressive resilience you possess, he stared at you with such a surprise look on his face. His hand cupped your chin subconsciously, holding it in place for a couple seconds before pulling you in.

As your lips connect, the chills stored send to each other’s body, surprising the demon butler all in all at the immense amount of influence from a single human. How does one human like her possess such power in hand, then he remembers just then:

“crying...is the act of developing.”

His appetite increased tremendously as his master further his goal, but for something that you would say, something was emphasized, and that emphasis he made loud and clear. His kiss deepened, his arms holding you closer and closer to him. His high regard he held for you has overwhelmed him at the slightest, and that brought concern to his being.

“Her soul...I want her soul...”

You pulled away at the slightest, only for Sebastian to pull forward reveled the realization which forced him to back down.

“And I thank you, Sebastian. Without you, I would not have realized just how much my memories mean to me; the ability to remember so much. So with that, I really thank you, Sebastian Michaelis.”

You picked yourself up, the water dripping from your body as you were careful to get out, “Feel free to use the tub, please. Don’t let my absence rush you.”

You took the towel and wrapped around your body before walking back to the room to select your night gown.

When the door close, the lonely demon butler stood in his sitting position with his head tilted downwards, bangs covering his face. His lips were parted in a emotionless rest, and yet...he slowly rose back to his usual self. His smirk penetrated the still room, the water flowing around his body dropped in temperature. His raised his hand up to his face before rubbing downwards, chuckling darkly, “Oh, My lady (Y/N), you truly possess a soul so exquisite, so divine...” He eyes, so dark, and so filled with the hatred shifted into his instincts, possessing those bold fuchsia eyes.

Fin

~~ ~~ ~~ ~

AHHHHHH I FINISHED! I feel so satisfied with this piece, so much so I cannot believe that I wrote so much. I also did so much when I used so little, I wonder if you can figure it out (mueeheheh). Anyways, I would like to thank you all for reading, for taking this time to be part of this adventure, to leave your comments, and your sharing. I appreciate that with all my heart.

That being said, I have to say adieu, and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!~~

#kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji smut #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis xreader #Sebastian Michaelis smut #Sebastian michaelis x reader smut #Black Butler #black butler smut #kuroshitsuji nsft #Black Butler nsft #Sebastian Michaelis nsft #kuroshitsuji sebastian

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ofwolvesandbutterflies · 4 years

Text

flaneur

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags: prince!haechan, baker!reader

Warnings: nothing severe, just jealous haechannie, unedited

day 29 of 30 days with NCT

Synopsis: in which the youngest prince hates his older brothers, his responsibilities, his title... everything except his late night chats with you.

// only the best things define what you mean to me // (x)

[22:23]

“I hate Jeno. Like, Mark is okay and Taeyong’s okay, too… But it’s Jeno that I really can’t stand,” the youngest of the four princes in your kingdom groaned, pausing in his chewing to stuff another piece of some of your freshly baked bread into his mouth. “God, how is your bread so good?” An amused smirk quirked up on your lips when he released a satisfied groan. “I’m serious, Y/N. Why don’t you work in the palace? This is so much better than the stale buns they serve with every meal.”

Crimson flames reached higher in the furnace behind you, casting a fiery color all over the walls, effectively hiding your rose colored cheeks. Every time since the first time he showed, Donghyuck never failed to compliment your baked creations. And every time since the first time, his compliments never failed to send your heartbeat racing towards the same unwarranted speed. “I’m flattered you think so,” came quietly from your lips as you pulled the dough out of the rising bowl.

“No, I know so, Y/N. You have got to be the best baker in the kingdom.” A heavy set of dark brown eyes settled over your figure as you worked, punching the excess air out of the sticky mixture. While most times, you weren’t one to enjoy people’s gaze on you while you worked, the young prince was different. There was a strange glint of excitement in his deep irises, fascinated with the way your hands went about forming what was soon to be a loaf of bread. The self conscious smile on your lips grew.

“But anyways, Jeno.” A terrifying scowl marred his previously pouting lips and the way the youngest prince said his brother’s name, so heavy with bitterness and distaste… it almost made you want to dislike the male as well. You shook the thoughts out of your mind and refocused back on the task at hand. You didn’t even know the guy. “My gosh, he’s the only thing I ever hear my parents talking about. At every social event it will always be, ‘ooh, duchess of x, y, and z, count of pizza or something... may I introduce you to my son, Prince Jeno? Yes, yes, he’s awfully handsome with his stupid, perfect hair and his stupid, straight nose that never broke in a riding accident-”

“A riding accident?” A startled gasp left your lips and you nearly dropped the piece of dough you had been rolling out. “Are you alright? Was that why I didn’t see you for a fortnight last month?”

For a brief moment, all the disgust covering his face melted into embarrassment when the nobleman realized his slip up. “N-not important,” he stuttered, waving the topic away just like that. You narrowed your eyes at your friend, taking note of the light dusting of pink covering his cheeks.

“A-anyways,” he cleared his throat, swallowing another bite of bread. “Back to Jeno - oh man, this bread is beyond heavenly. I should really bring some home and make like a secret stash somewhere in my wing - all I’ll ever hear at any meal, at every meeting, every passing within a good 10 feet within my parents is, ‘Jeno won that fencing tournament’ or ‘Jeno has been learning Latin and French. Won’t you say something for us, darling? With that annoying accent you make’... it’s always ‘Jeno this’, ‘Jeno that’, and the occasional ‘Prince Donghyuck, why can’t you do the things your older brother does? That would improve your public image, don’t you think?” The rage in his eyes burned brighter than the fire in the oven and Donghyuck chomped down unnecessarily hard on the last bit of bread in front of him.

You knew the life of a prince was nowhere near perfect. From what you had heard from the youngest prince, it was anything but. As a civilian, at least you were allowed your privacy. Donghyuck didn’t even have that. That was the reason, he admitted within the first month he began to confide in you, that he snuck out of the palace to visit you so often. That and that fact he appreciated the way you looked, concentrated, at peace, and breathtaking the way you sat and listened without any judgement. With your lips locked and dough rounded into rolls, you set them aside to rise again as you took a seat across from your regular visitor.

“Like okay,” Donghyuck sighed, resting his chin in his hands. “Taeyong’s married and out in his wife’s kingdom most of the year and we just heard they’re expecting. Like ‘whooo’ great… another unfortunate child stuck in the position of royalty.”

You frowned at this. It was no secret the youngest prince hated his title, at least not to you anymore. He hated the responsibilities that came with being in line for the throne, he hated the publicity, he hated the favoritism and the constant heavy eye of criticism. All you could do was rest a gentle hand on his forearm as he continued. “Mark is at the frontlines with the rest of the soldiers because he’s the only one my dad trusted with all the militia. That, and I think his fiancee got caught cheating with her bodyguard. So it’s been just me and Jeno for a while now. But he doesn’t even try to get along with me! Like every chance he gets, he’ll rub in all his accomplishments and how mother likes him better… It’s- it’s both mortifying to be related to someone who, for one, has never tasted your bread-” the two of you shared a laugh. “-and two, doesn’t know when to be humble. Like, okay, we get it, you speak three, different languages. Well, I can say ‘fuc-”

“Donghyuck,” you giggled, offering him one of the rolls you had made earlier this morning. “You told me you wanted to work on cursing less.” A sound of acknowledgement left his lips and he took the tasty morsel from your hands, snacking greedily on it.

In the brief moment of silence, you took the time to admire the young man that had made your late nights preparing for the hustle and bustle of the day much more meaningful. Though not much older than you, the young prince truly had a way of making you comfortable. The women of your kingdom would gossip to each other while shopping about how handsome the princes were, and while you never took part in these silly conversations you certainly held many of the same sentiments. However… contrary to many, you personally thought the youngest prince was much more handsome than his older twin.

While you had only ever seen Donghyuck in the dim light of the fire, what little light danced across his features was enough to bring the deepest of blushes to your face. His skin was a much richer color than his three older brothers and his eyes - when they weren’t angry - were soft and childlike. The youngest prince had a unique voice, smoother than any honey and melodic in its own accord. His smile and his laugh was infectious, never failing to spark joy within you. And, while you had only heard of the physical well-being of his older brothers, Donghyuck was lean and muscular, much more skilled than the average commoner in the arts of self defense and swordsmanship. The wistful sigh floated gently from your tired lips.

Oh yes, the youngest prince was the most handsome out of the four.

“Y/N?” his voice brought you out of your stupor and you blinked. The prince had already finished his fourth piece of bread that evening. “You’re staring, again. What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” you hummed airily, rolling up your sleeves to check on the rising dough. He paused in his loud chewing to shoot you a playful glare. You knew that he knew that you weren’t telling the full truth, but still you shrugged. “Just that you’re much too kind to deserve the indigestion you’ll get in the morning from eating all this bread.”

“Oh, hush,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’ve never gotten indigestion from eating /your/ bread. The bread from the palace, perhaps. But never your bread. I think I’ll be okay if I eat another-”

You smacked his outstretched hand away from the basket of day old bread off to the side. “Don’t you dare, your highness. Those are for the poor and hungry.” A childish pout appeared on his lips but he retracted his hands.

“Fine.” After another few minutes of drawing mindless doodles in the scattered flour on the table, Donghyuck looked up again. “Oh right, Y/N. I wanted to ask you something before I head home for the evening.”

“Anything, my prince.”

It seemed the young prince wrestled for a good, long moment with his thoughts as a lovely fuchsia dusted his cheeks… until finally, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot more and I was just... I wanted to know wh-what, like what would it take for me to convince you to come bake for me in the castle?”

a/n: thank youu for being patient~

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blankdblank · 3 years

Text

It’s a Mother Flocking Puffin Pt 21

Barefoot in a heavily embellished fluffy layer crazy skirted gown, with a lace full length sleeved top, sheer save for the corseted bodice layered with embroidered flowers and vines all across it you stood in the center of what could only be a lake. Deeply you sighed lifting a surprisingly injury free hand to brush back the bangs blowing into your face on the breeze to the shift of toes on the lone rock you had landed on. This wasn’t the first time you had done this, as if your life couldn’t get more awkward in this tropical sort of paradise you kept zapping yourself off to when times got tough quite randomly somewhere you would find a new friend. Usually absurdly tall Elves or other massive animals who guided you on small adventures or train you to whatever craft they were practicing that you had stumbled across.

But the lake was new. The ocean you had dropped into but not this lake, in fact narrowing your eyes in another scan of the land around you those geode formed trees weren’t familiar either. Even the ground seemed to give off a golden sort of glimmering dust blowing around the shoreline looking far too course to be taken as sand. “Hmm,” the scent of mead and a feast was what forced you to turn fully around on that little island finding a cliff wall just covered in stone statues and runes you couldn’t place alongside weapons and the faces of beasts from one end to the other as best you could manage against its curve and break behind more of those geode formed trees.

Sharply you inhaled and said, “Fingers crossed there’s no pelicans this time.” Foot extending for ice to gather underneath for the start of the stepping stone bridge to the cliff wall.

Half a mile to shore the shadow of the wall fell over you for a stunning chill free path in this pleasantly warm mystery island you found. Even in the shadow the way ahead was clear thanks to the glimmering trails cast by fireflies floating off the tall grass your feet brushed through with flight paths in spirals around your gently glowing self. The heads of the figures carved into the cliffs grew white fluffy brows in the drop of the nearest clouds thanks to the growing breeze shifting directions that wanted away to where Manwe deemed them destined. The drift of musical notes lured your eyes downwards in a wonder to where it was coming from.

Off to your right however the sudden plop of a boulder into the lake had you lifting your skirts allowing the lick of water to spill over your bare feet then recede again to the roll of the new addition towards the shore. Hunched and dull in its split apart an elderly Dwarf began to straighten up on its feet again. The more it did backwards the clock turned with youth seeped into each crack and crevice until alive again the limber younger form of the Dwarf smiled to itself on its eager steps ahead following the same sent their bulbous curled mustache framed nose had caught a whiff of.

Three more stones fell under and rose up to the surface of the same mirror like lake while you hurried a couple steps around a waking badger in its den you were passing hoping not to scare it. Curiously at the sight of you it began to follow along right with the clicking Ravens and Crows above on tiny ledges in the wall hopping forward as you did to keep you in view. Between the legs of one of the figures what appeared to be a wall wasn’t and timidly you walked onward still following the Dwarf now smiling at discovering the hidden doorway that with a hand out you noticed was an illusion hidden archway using the wall behind a narrow entrance hall to complete said disguise. To the right it branches and wound a half turn back jaggedly to open into an endless mountain city. Layers upon layers of floors with fires and joyous Dwarves were to be seen.

“Ahem,” behind your back a burly Dwarf look you over at your prompt glance back.

“Sorry,” you replied with a quick step aside into the hall along the wall. The Khuzdul you spoke however had his eyes fixed on you through your quick flash of a grin. “Taking it all in.”

Stepping inwards he kept his eyes on you allowing the two behind him through to trot ahead in search of someone of something they clearly were expecting. “Hmm, could have sworn I knew you.” His head bowed and curtly he turned and strode past you with grin returning headed to who knows where.

Head tilted slightly again your eyes rose and fell admiring each carved pillar and statue coating the sections of floors with colored glass shifting shades in each of the brave steps you took forward. Once past the first landing down three broad steps you almost had to hop to reach the next in a somewhat graceful way without hiking your skirts all the way up thanks to your little legs the Dwarves behind you took with some irritating sense of ease even in their own heavily layered skirts. A soft breath left your lungs on the edge of a grand ballroom packed with those dancing, feasting and drinking encircled by those sharing grand tales and raucous jokes.

Didn’t take long however for eyes to shift your way in return and off in a distant corner a shoulder was tapped to nod one of the burliest to come and inspect the newcomer. One low hanging decoration turned you around to the wall to get a better look on its gradual spin around the tile you had stepped onto. With a gasp however when you turned back a familiar pair of blue eyes had fallen upon you.

“Durin, you’re, I know you’re him.”

Gruffly he replied in Khuzdul also stunned at you’re knowing his mother tongue. “You seem awfully certain of that.”

That had you giggle and step off of the tile to avoid the decoration passing between you smiling up at him, “No I know you I’ve seen your face on portraits and statues all through the Palace in Erebor and even one in the Iron Hills.”

Ever so slightly his eyes narrowed causing his dark brow to furrow in the process, “I do not know of this Erebor you speak, and these Hills,”

“Well, I’m not fairly certain the exact dates, but your clan moved from the Grey Mountains to a new Kingdom named Erebor, it’s near the Greater Greenwood.” He shook his head, “It’s just past the Misty Mountains kind of North to Rohan and Gondor, if you sort of curve,” you said with a curve of your hand after points on some imaginary map between you involuntarily making the corner of his mouth tick upwards. “Look, I’m not an expert on schematics of where you have dwelled, but your family rule over Erebor, Dale, a sub city of Erebor, and Moria as well as the Blue Mountains, and King Nain rules over the Iron Hills so I think that means he’s either one of your relatives or married into your clan. So I think that counts too.”

“You said Nain?” You nodded and he turned, “Gorpumbden!” (‘Gather my whiskers!’) “Fetch Rtain! The little Lass knows his grandson!”

Outwardly he was smiling now and asked in the rush of one group of Dwarves rushing off to fetch the Dwarf while his hand motioned to guide you onwards back to his own private table with his wives from his lifetimes and their children and all the generations of grandchildren milking about nearby with their own broods. “Tell me, who else do you know from my line, Little Lass?”

“Oh, well, I’ve met nearly everyone in Erebor, well you see, it’s sort of,” you sighed and he glanced over your confused pouting moment luring grins on the faces of others you passed through across the dance floor matching his timed steps to do so with ease between bounding couples. “Ok, I’ll start here, I met my One, Thorin II, son of Thrain and grandson to King Thror. I’m not certain how far down your line they are, and well we weren’t married at first. But then we met and I sort of bumped into him and I thought I’d have a heart song but I never heard one but it turned out these freckles on my back were a Mate Mark,” you said lifting your wrist to show off the bracelet spreading his smile admiring the craftsmanship. “And he’s been so kind to me, whole clan has really, I had some trouble with my adopted clan but then he helped with that too.”

You had reached the table and he faced you asking, “And just how far has young Thorin II reached in his courting of you, Little Miss?”

“Oh we had to elope, so technically we’re married but we’ve picked a cottage and are designing rings and I made him some love spoons.”

Adoringly his hand reached out to cradle your lifted hand inspecting your wedding band, “How precious. I do not know the pain he must suffer at your place here. Though as part of my clan you are amply welcome to wait for him amongst us.”

Rtain arrived beaming and eager to hear more about his son and grandson that you had met through the service only stirring up more confusion for how a clearly non-Dwarf had made it to the Halls of Mahal. A familiar passing Dam had your mouth drop and you said, “Celeste!” Draped in yards of velvet in fuchsia over her pastel pink gown she had been painted in, her hazel eyes scanned over your waving and smiling self, “Oh don’t you look lovely. That is a fitting color on you. Really compliments your mustache.”

Three confused steps later and she reached your table while the males behind you grinned at your bubbly self just blooming in this social circle of their clan and others you had known from portraits in passing. “Forgive me, but I do not seem to be able to place your name.”

“Oh, you don’t know me, Jaqiearae Pear,” you said extending your hand with the name making a Dam dancing stumble and straighten to look you over having recognized the name. She accepted the handshake and you added, “I married into your clan, I’m designing my ring after yours. Hope you don’t mind it is stunning.”

Widely she smiled and accepted a spot beside you to talk about the ring now a ghostly glimmering copy on her finger of the one back in the vault back at the Palace. After the discussion of band changes and her blessing was given she asked in an almost pained tone, “How did you find yourself here?”

“Well, that’s a bit of a winded answer, but, Melkor hated my clans and sent others by some oath after he was killed to attack them. My parents went into hiding but they found them anyways and killed them.” Beards bristled and fists clenched the more you shared, “And I was adopted by a Noldo in Numenor. Then I got accepted to University in Dale where I met Thorin’s nephews Fili and Kili my roommates. They took me along for a break to the Palace where I met the rest of your clan there and bonded with Thorin. Since then they’d helped me to find my birth family. Then this morning the followers of Melkor remaining brought a Fire Drake to the school. And last I remember Thorin just got back to the Palace and was eating while I spoke to Fili and Kili through tea, then I was in the lake. And I heard all of you.”

After a solemn moment from them you asked, “Your clan has faced coups for centuries, a lot of people got hurt and could have died when they were after me, how am I supposed to live with that weight?”

Hands were laid on you and several shared words of wisdom on their own experiences with acceptance of that same weight until Durin asked, “The Beast was brought down?”

You nodded, “I shot him with a wind lance,” rippling proud smiles your way.

“Mahal’s Beard! Very good!” More than one of the clan exclaimed.

“Didn’t take very long, though everyone was scared and Bagheera especially was upset.”

That had his beard puffing up and him smiling widely, “You saw my Bagheera?”

“Yes, he’s back at the Palace. Probably won’t be glad for me to miss a meal. Sometimes it takes days for me to get back from these islands.” Lips parted in confusion for what you meant, “Though this is a first time here and I wasn’t expecting all of you. Not that I don’t-,”

“There you are Little One,” beaming through the crowd that barely reached his hip Tulkas strolled through the dancers with hand outstretched for yours, “I presumed you would meet me by the wading pools, but Manwe’s companions took notice of your waking here.”

“Oh, I have to go,” you said laying your hand on the outstretched one from Tulkas and said to Durin and the others, “It was so amazing meeting you. Perhaps I can wander back here again sometime.” To Durin especially you said, “I’ll give Bagheera some fruit for you. I know he misses you terribly.”

Speechless they watched while Tulkas faded to mist and in a small snow flurry you were gone leaving the Dwarves more confused than ever. A state that had the First Born on his feet in a curious search for Mahal in his wife’s gardens to ask about the curious visitor.

Hand over his mouth Fili woke to Kili’s tug on his mustache and in a turn of his head he knew why he was woken. Across your skin faintly glimmering clan lines mapped out the stretch of your bloodline to the Eldar on your already glowing skin. And sweet and low Khuzdul eased from your lips in half hearted sighs echoing of your deep deep wandering dream none but you could shake yourself from. Taps on Thorin’s nose had his soft snores halting and eyes patting in time to hear your next murmur of, “Durin.” Wide eyed he sat up joining the boys, the younger of whom was already recording your side of the conversation that ebbed in and out only giving part of your side of it confusing them all the more why you were dreaming of talking to their clan father.

Through the door the Emperor peered having heard your voice and from there in his step into view he said, “I see My Yuula is speaking with her friend Meldamalta again.”

Thorin asked, “This is common? For her to speak in her sleep?”

At that the Emperor grinned to himself replying, “That is no ordinary sleep. My Yuula has taken Olórë Mallë, and her fea is within Valinor.”

Fili’s mouth dropped open, “Her soul-!!”

Kili clasped his hands over his brother’s mouth looking to you undisturbed still deep in sleep and the Emperor stated in his move closer, “She cannot hear you, when she was a child I realized as a Vanyar her path to Valinor is much easier than other Elven races might find it. The pathway is a mental one that through the link in her mind her fea may travel there at its whims. When she was younger she was often gone for days at a time, and always after times of troubling circumstances. The Valar will not allow harm to find her there it is quite safe.”

Thorin wet his lips and asked, “She is speaking to Durin though. Not any Meldamalta.”

The Emperor’s lips pursed, “Hmm, perhaps due to your marriage she is allowed there. Often she finds herself in different areas of the Valar’s control, Meldamalta will find her.”

Kili, “Who is Meldamalta?”

The Emperor answered quite matter of factly, “Tulkas.” Dropping their jaws, “Upon her first visit there My Yuula informed me she met a kind giant being with golden hair she couldn’t understand who allowed her to braid a crown of Marigolds into his hair and call him Meldamalta. He is quite fond of her, and his son enjoys their times in Nessa’s gardens.”

Fili, “You’re telling me Jaqi is friends with the Valar Tulkas?”

The Emperor answered, “He loves children and has watched her grow. They all have.”

Kili, “She would have told us! I would have told her if I knew Mahal!”

Thorin asked, “She only knows him by Meldamalta?”

“Correct,” was his answer.

Fili chortled, “You have to be joking! How could she not know! You know!”

The Emperor simply pointed and on the headboard where they hadn’t noticed Bagheera was seated puffed up with golden eyes glowing. “Each trip once she had woken once I had recognized the gardens and lands she had explored and faces of those guiding her and teaching her skills in each try to share where she had been he would stop me. She is not ready to know yet it would seem. Though in my teaching her Valinorian he has calmed to my learning of her travels at least and the times have lessened in her being able to converse with them. They grant her council where my expertise is limited.”

Kili, “Why don’t you go with her?”

“Noldo are forbidden re-entrance to Valinor since the departure from those shores without Valar permission. I grew up in those lands and as a child my parents brought me here. Though I have never witnessed the Halls of Mahal myself, in fact I cannot name an Elf ever noted to have traveled there. It must be due to your union.”

“Celeste,” the name turned their heads and Thorin smiled guessing as the others had why you would speak to her, namely the ring you would share stirring up questions if you would mention them as well to their ancestors.

Fili mused, “Great Gran will be so pleased she went to the Halls of Mahal to wedding plan.”

The Emperor said, “You can rest she will share her adventures upon her return.”

Kili, “So she just knows she has long dreams?”

“No, it is very much a physical journey for her. Several times she has stated she simply wakes up in odd locations in beautiful gowns.”

“Meldamalta,” you sighed out and they blinked curious to know should they arrive in those hallowed halls which Valar they might come to know themselves.

The Emperor chuckled and stated, “You should get some more rest been a long day and she won’t be screaming.” He said to the steady sighed Valinorean wafting out of you like a sweet hummed lullaby that took the trouble out of their drift back to sleep, right away they felt the physical urge to lay back down cuddled around you eased off to their own dreams again. Leaving just the Emperor eyeing Bagheera who he asked softly, “She is growing stronger?”

The owl fluffed up and let out a low chirp in an affirmative response as he usually did for the adoptive father’s question he had repeated through the years in wait while the Valar bolstered your hope and strength. And while he was mostly correct in his assumptions the owl was not keeping him from telling you the name of the beings you had been conversing with but trying to tell him that you already knew deep down just not believing it to be really true. Fear was what he was protecting you from, any fear or possible shame taken in any slight imagined and that path could be lost to you forever without the knowledge of how you were actually sending yourself there.

Though an adult on technicality you were very much a child and far from knowledgeable on deeper things you had not been taught by the elders of your clans as you should have had Melkor not struck his deadly blow. A child with strength you didn’t understand to master without their help all these years with just among the remaining lessons to share how you were waking in those sacred lands. They did miss you when you were away, but the time in between showed such heart warming strength brewing inside you, this time all the more in having arrived in, for all your other kin, an impossible place. But Tulkas had you now and he was assured the master dueler of the Valar would enjoy the story and send you on your way home back to him again. Hoping to himself that even in his exile they might not think too harshly of him now that he’d grown from the boy they once knew.

Smiling widely in the gardens with your friends you sat talking while seated on a blanket for the picnic readied for you while the smiling Valar listened to the whole detailed story on the Drake luring the Elves serving under the cuddling couple across from you to come and listen. Loudly Tulkas laughed with pride for his youngest pupil while Nessa beamed at the clear passing of her swiftness lessons beyond just words that you had picked up in training on your own. His bravery and feats of strength and her agility and speed having aided in your success amongst lessons with Ulmo for the obvious control of water. The others far less obvious in their lessons, granting aid more in tasks and mini adventures during your stays in Valinor, rather hoped to present a chance to find those traits within yourself.

Although a few of their pupils, including one from Aule had aided greatly in the growth of your wood working craftiness, Celebrimbor in a new form had found himself in your path and in those bright eyes of yours found a kindred soul he wished to help and took to teaching you the basics. Among those pupils was Ecthelion of the Fountains, here again relaxed listening to your tale smiling with the others flute beside him in its carrying pouch that he had used to help teach you on the instrument between two more of your music instructors self assigned to ensure some time with spectacular you. No shortage of pupils had prided themselves on passing on what they had learned and a bit more on discoveries of their own to maybe aid you one day.

Off beyond a row of hedges through a disguising stream of water off a fountain a couple stood staring longingly at their child back here again, Jewels cuddled against her husband Lindo’s chest, both smiling faintly that their baby girl was growing so much stronger by the day. Even more so having brought them justice by searching out their attackers, whom Mandos was now taking personal attention to doling out Manwe’s orders for their atonement.

Both parents formerly in their unrest unable to travel here themselves since the date Mahal aided in their resting memorial in Erebor, now had a sort of physical form here in these lands to aid in their coming to terms with their own grief for all they, their clans and you had lost. They adored being close to you for so long however without a proper resting memorial from you they could not have visited you here until now, and even still they were fearful of approaching not to keep their precious girl from returning to her new life, the one you had fought so hard to build and defend.

Behind them however Este crept closer and hushedly began to speak with the pair sharing what they had missed through your trips here. “You will be strong enough to meet again one day, the three of you, you will,” she spoke softly warming their hearts as they nestled closer watching a bright smile split across your face laughing along with Tulkas and Nessa to a joke from their son.

Hours you had lingered and the same telling creep of bluebell vines towards your hand set aside gave you the same gut clench feeling that it was time to go. The look always was evident on your face and smiling still the crowd bid you safe travels. Up you stood with another ring of marigolds in hand you eased onto the glowing golden ringlets Tulkas had tied back from his face with ribbons from his beloved wife. In releasing the crown your fingers curled back in a slow recoil of your hovering hands recalling the first crown you had given him and the meeting of all the larger beings here you had once been unable to understand at all. His eyes lingered on your face with smile still in place through his thanks knowing things were clicking into place on who he was.

And softly you asked, “Are you really Tulkas?” Deeper his smile set in sinking more into his eyes at the bubbling courage in your gaze in asking, “Can I still call you Meldamalta?”

Tenderly his hands rose to cradle yours, “I have been and always will cherish being your Meldamalta.”

On his side Nessa eyed the still creeping bluebells reaching for your legs in your spring forward to loop your arms around his neck, eyes clenched in a tight embrace stirring a deep chuckle to his arms laying across your back, “Thank you for finding me.”

“Ooh now, Little One, you were the one to find me.” His words accented with a brush of fingers against your cheek in your step back brushing away the invisible trail of the tear threatening to fall from the corner of your eye holding it in place somehow.

Nessa smiled adding in her own taking of your hand, “The most welcome snow flurry in our lands, most precious Little One. Your bluebells are calling you to wake.”

Looking down you asked, “How do I keep arriving here?”

She smiled saying, “We have yet to travel that road, only Irmo would know.”

And up you looked finding Manwe approaching to the winding of a vine of bluebells around the layers of skirts folding in around your legs the more they climbed, “Fly safe, brave little Nique-Puifíní. And pray do inform Winge we have greatly missed his company here, his parents might have chosen to sail from these shores, an innocent to their oath, and welcome to return upon finding that doorway of dreams.” Like sinking into a well his voice began to muffle and echo in your ears to the clench of your eyes while from the feet up back into your flurry you shifted. Vana smiled in her stroll through the garden again in another try to find how you were entering these lands exactly to solve the sort of game Irmo had made in keeping the secret of how you arrived here each time.

To the opening of the door by a Butler entering to feed your fire at your side against Thorin’s side from your straight upwards position into him you leaned resting your head against his forehead. The sharp pain in your ribs stopped your wiggle into his side and when your ribs throbbed again a crack of your eyelid not being touched by a strip of his brushed up hair and softly you grumbled which drew a stirring breath from Thorin releasing his own grumble. Off behind his back however the Emperor whispered in a reach over him with dropper in hand containing medicine to help with the pain you were facing, “To ease your pain.” Groggily you parted your lips and with three drops on your tongue he drew back the dropper to add back to its bottle with a kind grin.

After wetting your lips you said, “I know Meldamalta’s real name now, remembered it.” Easing out his smile, “I was asked, Manwe says they miss you,” parting his lips, “Said you are always welcome back when you find the doorway, your parents swore the oath not you.”

Tearily he smiled again, “Thank you for telling me that. How are you feeling?”

“My head itches,”

“Bunnanunê,” Thorin rumbled through a deep inhale beginning to shift to prop himself up pressing a gentle kiss to your mildly bruised cheek between the scrapes there. “You are awake.”

“Just the one night?” You asked and he smiled.

“Just the one, are you in pain?”

“Not so much pain that I have to wash my hair.” Thorin nodded and with the stirring of the boys the bench brought earlier was moved to the side of the tub in a painful shrug he removed the sling hindering his ability to tend to you fully and scooped you up gingerly carrying you to the bath to lay you down on the bench. With care Fili held your neck while Kili turned on the water as Thorin undid your braid to the Emperor easing the bowl of healing oils and creams over with sleeves rolled up and comb in hand to begin recoating those cuts and scrapes aiding in some of the discomfort right away.

From the bottom to top the water was run stopping two inches from your scalp with Thorin tenderly lathering your shampoo lovingly into each curl watching the bloody grimy suds flowing down soon washed away revealing those awe striking curls. Without so much as a tug he wrung out the water he could and with Fili holding the blow dryer, certain to keep aimed away from your scalp that Kili held a hand towel against to act as buffer for the spare heat while the Emperor held you upright. Once dry your courting braid was added again with ribbon and bell intact to match the gentle tug free braid Thorin settled into your hair to keep it in place.

“Thank you,” you whispered in Thorin’s move to settle into your view again smiling at your relieved grin.

Kili however blurted out, “Weird dreams? You talk in your sleep.”

Fili smiled bursting with questions of his own to your weak chuckle, Thorin however scooped you in his arms again saying, “Back to bed, you can share there cozy in bed.”

Around you the group nestled you back in your former place with towel removed from over your pillow stained by your hair added to your empty hamper while covers settled around your waist and Sir Akdâmuthrab clambered over post stretch to plop down on your lap to sleep there instead of far below your feet. By now Dis, Vili, Dwalin and Balin had come to check on you and settled onto the end of your bed having come to check on you to send for your first meal of the day before the Doctors would arrive.

“So, I met Durin,” you started and in the growing group of their kin while the triplets continued to nap against your legs having been set down by their parents having scooted closer to grant more room for others to hear everything.

Kili, “How’d you get there?”

“I, don’t know. I never land in the same place when I go there, but this was the first time I woke up there. I think they thought I was dead. Must have,”

Vili asked, “Have you met Mahal?”

“I don’t know, I know Meldamalta is Tulkas, Manwe is obvious shroud in feathers, the others I am not certain. I might have, there are a few who look similar to etchings I’ve seen on display here, then there are others who are more, not feelings, that’s not the word…”

Dis said, “Un-bodied ones?”

That you nodded to, “Even Meldamalta’s son at times chooses to present out of his body. Mahal’s Halls none of your kin were like that, I think it was just the Elven lands. Even Celebrimbor held our lessons out of himself before as well. He might have been there, sorry to disappoint.”

Thorin’s hand laid on yours, “Oh no, no disappointment at all. Only few of our kin have returned from those halls, each tale is treasured.”

Gloin asked, “Would you mind us calling uncle Nain? Letting him know about his grandfather meeting you?”

“No, is he in the clan by blood or marriage, I didn’t know.”

Thorin smiled again as Frerin answered, “His Amad is of our line, but Firebeards and Longbeards have always been close.”

Your eyes drifted to Dis, “Celeste seemed happy hearing I chose her ring. And the keeper of yours told me to tell you,” for a moment your brows furrowed in repeating the mouthful of words slowly, “Mire the Spring?”

Dis smiled to Vili who explained, “A joke on how my Spring proposal was as troubled as hers had been.”

She patted her hand on your legs, “A good sign, thank you for the message.”

Through them a tray was brought in to rest on top of your lap for the meal the rest of the clan shared their plans for the day to help settle things of their own charge throughout the kingdom to aid in the recovery of the populace from this stunning attack while those in other kingdoms were doing the same. Doctors did follow after and with a sigh you settled into bed as Thorin was off to his own rooms for a private second inspection of his own wounds and warm bath to freshen up before his few tasks of the morning between him and his evening in with you.

Pt 22

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455, @xxbyimm

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

x Thorin – @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor

X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress

#Path Of Dreams #Ollore Malle #Valar #Durin the Deathless #Celeste #Dain's Family #Lost Loves #Afterlife #Halls of Mahal #Gardens of Tulkas #Meldamalta #Back Again #Pass on Messages #Tend to the Hair #Back to Bed #Thorin x Reader OC #Vili x Dis

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jlalafics · 4 years

Note

I’m clearly on a dessert kick at the moment ... how about Everlark chancing a moment alone at an event on the tour to enjoy some sort of treat they found/generally check in with each other and have a breather (or some variation or that — supportive Everlark moment alone on the tour) (I mean they do get caught trying to sneak away a lot, maybe sometimes they succeed)

Hope this satisfies your dessert craving! Thanks @rosegardeninwinter for the prompt!

______

District 5

It’s far into the evening when there’s a quiet knock on the door.

God, I hope it’s not Effie coming to complain about my lack of enthusiasm during the most mind-numbing speech in all of Panem. I don’t know how she comes up with these words, sometimes.

Pressing the door button, it opens and instead of an irate Effie, I find Peeta.

He looks me over. “You were really going to go to sleep?”

My gaze goes to his dark pants and heather-green long-sleeve. He’s also holding a brown leather jacket with a wool collar. “And you aren’t?”

“No. Get dressed,” Peeta urges. “I want to show you something. Wear something that’s not too obvious.”

“I guess my fuchsia sequin dress is out of the question,” I retort.

“Very funny. Hurry up, won’t you?”

“Fine.” I yank him into the room and Peeta looks surprised. “You can’t stand in the hallway waiting for me. Everyone thinks we’re engaged, we’ve probably since each other in various stages of undress.”

“Right,” he manages to sputter out.

I find myself grinning as I look through my closet, pulling out a simple navy-blue dress and a cropped jacket. Quickly, I pull my shirt over my head and shimmy out of my lounge pants.

Behind me, Peeta is quietly whistling to himself, probably avoiding the fact that I’m practically naked in front of him.

What a gentleman.

There are times, however, when I wish he wouldn’t be. When I wish we could recapture the hunger that had welled up inside our cave. Some nights on this train, I find myself replaying those kisses in my mind over and over—

“You okay?” I look over my shoulder to find Peeta watching, his eyes darker than I have ever seen them. I recognize that want in them. “You spaced out for a moment.”

I quickly pull the dress on and pull on the jacket. Finally, I bend down and pull out a pair of sturdy boots.

“I’m ready,” I declare.

“You look nice,” Peeta replies with a soft smile. “Now, let’s get out of here.”

++++++

We find ourselves in a village. The buildings are tall with cone roofs and painted in muted primary colors. Some have stone walls. As we walk through the village, the hand that isn’t grasping Peeta’s reaches to touch one of the stones. It makes sense as we are close to the mountains; it must be their primary resource for building material.

“Where exactly are we going?” I ask as Peeta looks around, his eyes searching the street signs.

“One of our handlers mentioned this one place…” We make another turn and his blue eyes brighten. “There!”

We go to where a small crowd hangs around a…bakery.

This isn’t like Peeta’s bakery as there are wide glass windows displaying trays of baked goods. Inside there are a few tables where the townspeople sit and lounge. It looks cozy and inviting and I find comfort in seeing people living their everyday lives, enjoying time to just be together.

It’s hard to feel like that when you’re on a never-ending train ride.

“Do you see anything you like?” Peeta asks me as we stare at various trays in front of us.

“I really don’t know,” I say. “Why don’t you pick for me?”

Together, we step inside and the noise ceases. I try to ignore the shocked expressions as Peeta leads me to the front counter.

All charm, Peeta gives the older woman with snow white hair a smile. “Hello. Francis recommended your bakery—”

“I’m flattered, Mr. Mellark,” the woman replies kindly. “My name is Mary. What can I help you with?”

“Peeta, please.” He turns to me. “Katniss and I have a limited knowledge on dessert pastries. What would you recommend?”

The woman beams at us. “Well, we are known for our eclairs—”

��I’ve heard about them!” Peeta says excitedly and I smile at his enthusiasm. He’s been so upset with me and I’ve given him several reasons to be. For the first few days of our trip, we avoided each other. However, Peeta has brought me with him on this jaunt so we can get out of our gilded cage for an evening. It is the faintest shimmer of forgiveness and I will take it. “May I see?”

The woman goes to one of the display cases and, taking a smaller tray on the counter, grabs a pair of tongs to pull out some eclairs. She returns, placing them in front of us.

There are two eclairs in front of us, both oblong-shaped, but one has a dark glaze on top and the other a lighter brown.

“This one is a chocolate éclair.” Mary points to the darker one. “And this one is maple. Both have cream filling and both are delicious.”

Peeta nods and turns to me. “I’m convinced. Katniss?”

I muster up a smile. “I trust you…but we don’t have money—”

“I’ve got it,” Peeta tells me.

“They’re on the house,” Mary insists, and she turns to me. “When I saw you with Rue…my heart just broke for you.”

My eyes fill and I’m barely aware as Peeta puts an arm around me.

Rue never had the chance to live, to be able to see any place but her hometown or even try an éclair. These are such little life moments, but they feel bigger since she nor any of the other fallen tributes will ever experience them. My chest burns at the thought.

“Why don’t I buy two more?” Peeta suggests gently. “Let’s enjoy them for the people who couldn’t.”

++++++

We find ourselves in a garden, entering through an archway that looks like the one in front of Victors’ Village back in 12. Peeta finds us a bench that overlooks the whole garden and from the far distance I can spot the shadows of the mountains that tower over the town.

“Wow, this really is beautiful,” Peeta says as we sit down. “Francis made great recommendations.”

“When do you even have a chance to speak to the handlers?” I ask curiously as he opens the paper bag.

“While Effie is lecturing you to smile and stuff, I get to talk to them,” he explains. “I mean the handlers are here to welcome us and someone has to extend their gratitude. We’re Victors, but we’re not going to be jerks about it. They love to talk about their District and Francis just happened to be a chatty one. He’s the one who told me that this is a great date spot.”

A date?

I’m confused for a moment. Is this what this is?

“I’ll give you the chocolate one,” Peeta tells me. “Just don’t eat all of it.”

I’m so flabbergasted by what he’s just said that I reach for the éclair, holding it at both ends and readying myself to take a bite in the middle.

Peeta chuckles lightly. “It’s not a sandwich.” He rotates it so one end is facing me. “Go ahead.”

Tentatively, I take a bite.

The pastry is light, and the chocolate glaze gives it sweetness. I’m amazed at how well the slight buttery taste of the pastry mixes perfectly with the heaviness of the chocolate. The cream is sweet and airy but messy. I find myself licking the excess off the sides of the éclair and along my lips.

“Wow,” Peeta says, his face slightly crimson but the smirk is evident on his mouth. “That’s an image that I’m going to remember for the rest of life.”

I smack his arm. “I’m new at this!” He laughs as I put the éclair back on its wax wrapping. “Peeta?”

He’s already polished off his maple éclair—gluttonous boy. “Hmm?”

I adjust myself in my seat. “Have you ever been on a date?”

“I’ve gone with my brothers and some girls on a group thing,” he replies carefully. “It’s more like I tagged along to make it even. Why?”

“Then how do you know this is a date?”

“I asked you to come out, you got semi-dressed up, I paid for the meal, and took you to what some people might consider a romantic spot.” Peeta turns to me, his eyes warm. “So, yes—according to my brothers, this would be considered a date.” His eyes look off in the distance towards the mountain and I hear his quiet sigh. “Were your dates with Gale different?”

Gale has never asked me to go anywhere but to the woods or maybe to the market. I wear what I usually wear; my father’s jacket and my hunting clothes. Not like Gale’s ever offered, but I pay my own way…and we’ve never really gone anywhere remotely intimate. The thought alone makes me wince slightly.

Clearing my throat, I respond. “Um…I’ve never gone out with him like this.” Peeta turns to me, his eyes hopeful. “So, I guess this is…a…date.”

Peeta nods and I look around at the magnificent garden around us as we sit in content silence. Quiet moments like this are rare, but we take what we can. I breathe in the cool air, hearing the slight whistle of the wind between the mountains and let myself relax for a second.

His hand covers mine and gives it a squeeze. I know he feels it, too.

There’s a shift in the air; something wildly intimate is happening between us. Something that neither of us can really explain. It’s new territory which can be scary but his hand in mine gives me assurance like nothing else can.

“How are you?” he asks me suddenly. An arm moves stealthily around my shoulders and Peeta avoids my suspicious gaze. “I mean, not counting the whole Snow hating us thing.”

“I guess I’m okay,” I answer. My body curls against his, my head to his shoulder. “And you?”

“I’m on my first date with Katniss Everdeen,” he tells me and I can feel his smile against my hair. “What more can I ask for?”

++++++

It is all too soon when we return to the train.

Being the nice guy that he is, Peeta walks me to my room.

It’s right across from his, but that’s neither here nor there.

“Thanks—” I say, my eyes darting downward. “—for tonight. I think we both really needed it.”

“I agree.” Peeta looks to me, uncertainty in his eyes.

My palms are sweaty because I’m waiting…hoping…that he’ll take that next step—

“Where have you been?” We pull apart, finding Effie charging towards us sans wig and wearing the most garish purple robe. “Do not tell me that you snuck out!”

Behind her, a groggy Haymitch joins us.

Something tells me he knew, but did he care about our one night away from our steel cage?

I’m betting not.

“Then we won’t tell you,” I reply simply. I take Effie’s hand, rotate it palm facing up and give her the paper bag with the extra eclairs in it. “Good night.”

++++++

I’m disappointed.

Not by the outing…date.

There is still a pleasant roll in my stomach at the memory of the garden…our garden…of the taste of chocolate éclair along my tongue…and the look in Peeta’s eyes as he watched me.

Actually, that gives me a whole different feeling.

Going to the closet, I take off my jacket and reach for a hanger—

A gentle knock sounds against my door.

Hanging my jacket quickly, I press the door button and find Peeta in front of me.

“What are you doing here—”

I don’t even finish the sentence before his mouth is on mine. My arms wrap around his neck as we kiss, his hands moving along the line of my back. The heat is encompassing; our mouths connected, breaths puffing against each other, and foreheads pressed. Somewhere along the way, my hands travel down, grasping at his shirt…not quite sure where this will go…nor caring.

“Peeta…” I whisper against his lips.

His mouth moves along my jawline trailing down to my neck. “Yes?”

“I had a really good time,” I whisper into his ear as he mouths the gentle curve.

Peeta kisses me gently, a promise against our lips. “I’m going to take you on another date one day.”

I close my eyes hoping, after this tour is done, he’ll make good on that promise.

FIN.

And we know what happens next.

District 5 is supposed to be located around the Rocky Mountains. I imagine that the town they visited was what was Veil, Colorado and the bakery in the Lionshead district. The gardens would the Betty Ford Alpine Gardens.

I’ve never been there, but now I want to go.

Thanks for reading!

#Everlark #During the Victory Tour #firstdate!Everlark #District 5: Power #Everlark Fanfiction #victorytour!Everlark

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 2: Accept The Fucking Offer]

Series summary: You are an overwhelmed and disenchanted nurse in Boston, Massachusetts. Queen is an eccentric British rock band you’ve never heard of. But once your fates intertwine in the summer of 1974, none of your lives will ever be the same...

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing) HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug

The floor is quiet. Your patients—all except one—are sound asleep and mercifully keeping their call buttons at a distance. Patricia is camped out in the nurses’ station at the other end of the hall, chomping noisily on sunflower seeds and wailing along to Tammy Wynette on her portable radio. Queen is enjoying their fourth late-night picnic of the week. You close the door and check your watch; you have seven minutes left before your break ends.

“Let’s kill her,” Freddie suggests casually, hanging his smoldering cigarette out of the open window.

“You know that’s extremely bad for you.”

“What? Committing felonies?”

“I don’t think you’d do well in prison, Fred,” Roger says, popping a Cheeto into his mouth. “No sequined leotards. No cats.”

“Smoking,” you correct. “Smoking is extremely bad for you.”

Freddie takes a drag, exhales a fog of smoke, and grins at you beneath gleaming sunglasses. “Possibly. But darling, the aesthetic is divine. And you’ll take care of me if I get sick, won’t you? Ensure I get all the best drugs, procure new lungs for me on the black market?”

Brian rolls his eyes and nibbles a violet plum, then gestures for John to pass him a napkin as juice dribbles down his stubbled chin. John flaps the napkin just outside of Brian’s reach, yanking it away each time Brian swipes. Roger snickers, observing their exchange from his place on the floor, before eventually advising John to have mercy. Brian snatches the napkin and promptly whips John across the face with it.

“So now you have me committing felonies,” you tell Freddie with a smile.

“Keeps things spicy.” Freddie peers over at you, brow crinkled, studying you like an abstract painting. “Do you like your job, dear?”

Brian groans. “Fred, please, don’t interrogate her—”

“I’m not interrogating, I’m inquiring—!”

“It’s fine, seriously, Bri, it’s fine,” you say. Brian raises his hands in surrender. His coloring has improved, he’s gained five pounds, he’s being discharged tomorrow. Then Queen will be whisked across the Atlantic back to London...and that’s a truth you’re struggling to grasp. “I love what I do. Just not necessarily where I do it.”

Freddie nods, puffing on his cigarette. “Because of Nurse Queen of the Underworld.”

“Not just her.” You can remember being a child and worshiping at the altar of familiarity: your home, that old maroon Queen Anne-style house at the intersection of Apple Avenue and Arcadia Street; inhaling New England autumns; burying yourself in your mother’s soft, cream-colored knit sweaters that were dusted with the scents of homemade pies and Chanel No. 5; the creaks of that uneven, tobacco-stained wood floor of your father’s study beneath your bare feet. Whatever existed outside of your comfortable, commonplace universe—whatever monsters or treasures or undiscovered ringed planets dwelled there—held no interest for you at all. You wanted to live here, die here, raise your own family here, take your children to play under the same weeping willows in the Public Green that your grandparents had met beneath. And then one day, in the purging heat of the summer after your sophomore year of college...you woke up and realized that all those comforting things suddenly felt like a cage, that your fingers were threading bars made of your family and your friends and every grain of soil in Boston. Patricia is dreadful, of course, and has been since you arrived at Massachusetts General nine months ago; but she’s not what you’re running from. “It’s this hospital, it’s this city, it’s Boston. I was born here and I cherish it, don’t get me wrong, but I want to see the world. Mountains and lakes and cathedrals and castles and...and...you know. All the rest.”

“That’s how I felt about Cornwall when I was a kid,” Roger confesses. “I’d take my little acoustic guitar out into the backyard and look up at the sky as I played and think, ‘Is this really it? Am I ever going to get beyond all this to something more?’”

“Yes, yes, well no one asked for your autobiography, blondie,” Freddie quips. Roger chuckles, entirely unoffended. “Continue, dear.”

You think before you respond. When you do speak, it comes out heavier than you mean it to, more serious, more pained, whispered, your voice splintering. “I guess I just don’t want to die without really living first.”

The boys watch you for a while: Brian poised and pondering, Freddie seeking, Roger empathetic, John very quiet. John has spoken—at the absolute most—five words to you since you’ve met him; but you know he can get chatty with Freddie or Rog on occasion, and so you’ve held out hope that you can still win him over. Now you’re almost out of time.

At last, Roger raises his beer, smiling, showing the tiny points of his canine teeth. “Cheers to that.” And it sends something through you like a one-way ticket into a brand new world.

You laugh nervously. “Okay. Wow. Enough of all that, I have to go save lives now.” You wash your hands in the sink and pull on a new pair of gloves, dodging Roger’s large, affecting eyes.

“Do you have a boyfriend, lovely Clara Barton?” Freddie asks. They know your actual name, they’ve known it since night one, but they’ve taken to referring to you as whatever famous nurses they can recall from high school.

“Freddie,” Brian admonishes.

“What, I’m just asking—”

“No, actually, I don’t,” you tell Fred. “Why, do you want a Green Card?”

“Darling, no offense, but if I was going to marry for strategic purposes I would aim for someone far older and astronomically richer. With life insurance.”

“Thanks, Freddie.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“Are you single? Since we’re all sharing our life stories.”

“I’m not,” he replies, somewhat cagily. “None of us are. Well, Brian certainly isn’t, and Deaky wasn’t last I checked, although he’s tricksy and awfully quiet about the whole affair, so I ought to confirm that at some point...how about you, Rog?”

Roger chokes on his beer and wipes his dripping nose with one fuchsia sleeve. “Uh, I, uh, yeah, yeah, uh, I’m single. Yes.”

“Oh?” Brian says, eyebrows raised. “Someone should probably inform Josephine.”

“That’s a casual thing. Super casual. Not exclusive.”

Freddie and Brian exchange a glance: an amused, smirking, what else can you expect from Roger? glance. You try to smirk at Roger too; but he shrugs guiltily, endearingly, with some mesmerizing spell of danger and innocence and wildness and beauty, angels and demons that you didn’t know could coexist without clubbing each other to death. And you mean to file this away as a warning, a reminder to keep your distance; but it feels more like blowing on embers until they leap into flames.

Bad idea, lady. Really, really, really, exorbitantly bad idea.

“Alright, I’m out. Brian, you have the call button if you need it. There’re extra cups and napkins in the cabinet and—”

You open the door. Patricia is halfway down the hallway and approaching quickly, glinting-eyed, stone-faced, keys grasped in her hand. A glimpse at your watch informs you that your break ended two minutes ago. You swing the door shut.

“Get out!” you whisper urgently, and Roger bolts for the window. He pitches his beer outside and helps John climb through the opening and drop safely to the ground below.

“Fred!” Roger hisses, waving, and he lowers Freddie out of the window next as you kick snack wrappers and empty bottles beneath Brian’s hospital bed. Bri smooths his blankets, turns off his lamp, shakes the peanuts out of his hair that John lobbed there. You rush to Roger as you hear keys rattling against the door.

“Here, I’ll help you...” Without thinking, you take his hands as he hesitates in the open window and steady him as he crawls out. You can see Freddie and John down in the darkness, reaching up to catch Roger when he falls. A sudden wave of mourning grips you. I’m never going to see them again. “Bye,” you say, without any cleverness at all. But Roger smiles like it’s the best thing he’s heard in weeks, maybe months, maybe ever. He glances to where your hands hold his.

“Bye,” he replies in that raspy, radiant voice. And then he’s gone.

You sigh shakily. You turn around. Patricia stands in the open doorway.

“Oh,” she says, grinning like a shark, almost gloating. “You are so fired.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re sorry, we’re so sorry, you have no idea how—”

“It’s fine, Roger.”

You’re standing under a lamppost just beyond hospital property at 7:15 a.m. Your shift is over, your very last shift at Massachusetts General; Roger waited outside to meet you all night. There are swollen shadows beneath his eyes, his cheeks are flushed with fury and mortification, he’s edgy and pacing and chain smoking. The sun is bright and already hot, the Arctic terns cawing and swooping overhead.

“It’s not fucking fine,” he flares. “We got you fired—”

“Roger, I was miserable there. I was jaded and complacent and I felt trapped, I felt like I was standing in cement, I felt like I was suffocating and I didn’t know how to bail myself out of it or how to explain any of this to my parents. But now...thanks to Queen...I’m free. I got the shock I needed. I can move on.”

“You didn’t deserve to leave like that,” he insists menacingly. “That bitch isn’t going to write you recommendations. You were good at what you did, you were really fucking good, Brian was despondent before you took over. You deserved better.”

You shrug. “Life’s not fair, Rog.”

“That’s the truth.” He takes a drag off his cigarette and you hold out your hand. He stares at you, perplexed, but passes the cigarette. You smoke a few puffs, then give it back. Roger smiles. “I thought that was extremely bad for you.”

“Most of the best things are.”

“Well.” He shuffles his feet anxiously. “I have a proposition.”

“Yeah?”

“Since you’ve successfully untethered yourself from all your unfulfilling earthly obligations...come to London with us.”

You feel your jaw fall open, feel all the tension in your muscles unravel as the numb shock rolls through you. “Uh. I was thinking maybe the Peace Corps or joining a travel nursing agency or something.”

Roger winks and nudges your shoulder with his. “Transatlantic flights to London count as travel.”

“That’s...accurate...”

“No, seriously!” Rog presses. “Look, every time a band tours, the company hires a medic or a nurse to go with them. They stitch up busted faces, sanitize infected tattoos, prevent us from dying of alcohol poisoning, ice knocked-out teeth until we can get to a dentist, the works. We’re going to be recording as much as possible in London, but Brian will be on bed rest for most of the next few months. You can take care of him. Keep his spirits up. You’re good at that. We’ll all chip in to pay you if the company won’t, Freddie and John have already agreed to it and I know Brian will as soon as I ask. Then, when we inevitably go on tour again...you can be our travel nurse.” He grins confidently, electrifyingly, like he’s figured out all of life’s thorniest questions.

“Rog, I really appreciate the offer, but...uh...this is really too much, and I have no travel nurse experience whatsoever, and...and...look, you are all really talented, I mean that, but you have some seriously chaotic energy and I’m not sure global fame is in the cards for Queen—”

Roger interrupts you brusquely. “You said you love what you do. So you like taking care of people, right?”

“I do, yeah.”

“And you want to see the world.”

“Absolutely.”

“And you think we’re fun, don’t you? Exciting? Audacious? Reckless enough to keep you busy with the fallout of frequent near-death experiences?”

“That sounds about right.”

“So...” He waggles his blond eyebrows. “Come with us.”

You look up into the mid-June sky, as blue and churning as the Boston Harbor, and try to imagine it: packing your suitcase (you really don’t need to bring all that much), digging your passport out of your jewelry box (you know exactly where it is), telling your parents that you’re jetting off to Europe the next day (they would accept it, maybe they’d even be proud; you’d finally be striking out on your own), renting some cheap little apartment in London (you have enough savings to get you started).

“Accept the offer,” Roger says.

“I really don’t think—”

“Accept the offer.”

“—I just couldn’t impose like that, I mean you’re not making any money yet and—”

“Accept the offer.”

“—You guys shouldn’t feel like you owe me this just because I happened to—”

Roger cradles your face with rough hands, gazes fixedly into your eyes, and smiles blindingly. “Love,” he says. “Accept. The fucking. Offer.”

Bad idea, terrible idea, literally the worst idea in the history of human civilization.

“Okay,” you reply softly.

“Okay, like, for real okay?”

“Yeah.” And entirely against your will, you break into a grin. This is the start of the rest of my life. This is the graveyard of familiarity.

“Yes!” Roger cheers. He takes your left hand, raises it to his lips, bites you lightly across the knuckles: some feral, ludicrously on-brand vision of Roger as a Disney hero. I’m the Lady and he’s the Tramp. I’m Sleeping Beauty and he’s the Prince who’s going to finally wake me up, even if it means slaughtering a dragon or two.

“Cute,” you say sarcastically. But, actually, it sort of is.

“Can I walk you home?” Roger asks. “You live around the corner, right? I can help you pack. Oh, wait, maybe I should shower first, I don’t want your parents to see me like this...I am a literal ashtray...my hair is ridiculous...I think I still have some eyeliner on...is the fuchsia jacket too much...?”

You watch Roger as he scrutinizes himself fretfully, his words fading out of the picture, the world becoming a silent film. You can’t look away. If Brian’s a willow tree and Freddie’s a lightning storm, what is Roger? Wildfire, you decide.

He follows you through breezy, shaded Boston streets to the house at the intersection of Apple and Arcadia, with the solemn promise that he can borrow your shower and an old pair of gym shorts. You know he’ll charm your parents instantly, that they’ll fall in love with him. Everyone does.

When you look down at your left hand, there’s a vanishing silhouette of a bruise where he bit you; and if you really think about it you can feel that it still burns.

#but you can never leave #but you can never leave fic #but you can never leave series #queen fanfic #queen fandom #queen fic #queen #borhap #borhap fandom #roger taylor #roger taylor fic

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fic-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

A Mermaid Tail

A/N: Yes this is because I’ve been watching a lot of H2O during this pandemic

Pairing: Bucky x reader

You had been working with the Avengers for about two years now and never in that time had you got to use your powers, what you were recruited for. Yes you had punched bad guys in the face and thanks to Nat knew how to strangle someone with your thighs but you were made for more than that.

Your chance came one summer day when Tony called a meeting. You all filed into the conference room and took your respective seats around the large glass table. There was a hologram on the table, the image blue and slightly fuzzy. You guessed that was the reason for the meeting.

Nervous glances were exchanged back and forth and murmurs were whispered across the room as you all tried to figure out just what exactly you were looking at. Then, thankfully, Tony walked in, shut the door, and asked FRIDAY to kill the lights. The image came to life, a recording. You all watched as what looked like a submarine moved through the water only for something to go terribly wrong. The ship started to sink before it was nothing more than flotsam at the bottom of the sea.

“What the hell was that?” Sam asked, vocalizing everyone’s shared opinion. The others, yourself included, had been too stunned to speak.

“That, Wilson, was something called a narco-sub. Top of the line in drug smuggling and currently at the bottom of Lake Superior.”

“Michigan? Why would there be drug smuggling in the middle of Michigan?” You asked, confused. You had been there numerous times, it didn’t seem like the type of place you would think about when you thought about drug trafficking.

“Well, Canada’s right there, it does kind of make sense. Strictly in terms of import and export.” Bucky answered you from your left. You glanced over your shoulder to look at him but his eyes were looking intently at the narco-sub.

“Thank you Barnes, at least someone has their head screwed on straight today.” Tony said, rubbing his temples. “Fury thinks there might be something else in the narco-sub, weapons of some kind. He thinks this was Hydra.”

With the sudden revelation, a chill went through the room. Nobody spoke and you swore Bucky tensed up next to you. Tentatively, you placed a hand on this thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. Without saying a word he took your hand and covered it with his.

“Barnes, I know this may be hard for you but nobody knows Hydra better than you do so I’ll need you to go on this mission. Y/N you’ll also be going, for obvious reasons.” Tony said while switching on the lights and shutting the hologram off. You knew you should’ve felt upset or pissed about Hydra but all you felt was giddy. You were finally going to use your powers and you had to work hard to suppress the smile on your face.

“When do we leave?” You asked, your body already tingling in anticipation.

“Two hours, pack what you need and get on the jet. Wilson, you’re flying them.”

You learned you would be gone for two days so there wasn’t much to do in terms of packing. FRIDAY had transferred the mission details to your iPad per Stark’s request. You thanked her as you looked over everything. The sub was apparently in the middle of the great lake and sank all the way to the bottom. There was no way to be sure what exactly was on the sub but intelligence reports said drugs and dangerous weapons. So the usual.

Exactly two hours later you had your duffel bag in hand and walked onto the jet to find Bucky and Sam waiting for you. Bucky looked you over and gave you a wary look.

“Aren’t you gonna wear a tac suit or somethin’?” He questioned.

“Usually I would, but I don’t need it for this mission.” You said with a smile, looking down at your casual beach going clothes. Cut off jean shorts and a black tee-shirt. You even wore sandals on your feet. Bucky simply shrugged at your reply as the jet took off and you made your way towards The Great Lake State.

Sam dropped you off and told you there was a car waiting that you could take the rest of the way to the beach. Once you got there, there would be a boat that you could take out on the water to the drop site. You both thanked him before leaving the jet, promising to meet at the same spot in two days time for pick up.

Once you got to the beach you and Bucky made your way towards the water, spotting the boat almost instantly. It was nothing special, just a small pontoon. To the unsuspecting eye, you and Bucky just looked like a young couple about to enjoy a day out on the lake. As you got closer to the water you could feel your energy spike, a surge of renewal wash through you. That was only slightly dampened when you realized there was no dock and the boat was just moored out in the shallows. You would have to get in the water to get to the boat. You hesitated and Bucky turned around, noticing your sudden change of pace.

“Um...Bucky. You’re gonna have to carry me to the boat.” You said. Not a question, but a statement. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when your statement registered in his mind.

“What?” Was the only reply you got.

“I can’t step into the water this close to civilians and you have the coordinates to the drop site. So unless you want me sprouting a tail early, you need to carry me to the boat.” You spelled it out for him, calmly. You had been with the Avengers for two years but none of them had ever seen you as a mermaid. They knew what you were but no mission ever required it of you and you made a habit of making yourself scarce from any pool party they might throw.

“Oh, uh, right.” Bucky agreed, albeit slightly confused, as he walked back to you and picked you up bridal style. Now you /really/ must look like a young couple in love. Bucky stepped into the shallows and walked towards the boat. Your arms, which were wrapped around his neck, tightened as the water level rose. But before anything bad could happen, Bucky deposited you on the deck before he climbed aboard as well.

You handed him a fluffy towel that had been waiting on board so he could dry off as he drove to the drop site. About ten minutes later you were at the destination. It was hard to believe you were on a lake and not in the middle of the ocean because everywhere you looked, as far as the eye could see, was water. Beautiful blue water that you thought complimented Bucky’s eyes nicely. He looked comfortable behind the wheel of the boat and you thought that maybe he could’ve been a fisherman in another life. His pale skin would turn golden in the sunlight and his black locks would get streaks of honey brown in them. Although you couldn’t imagine Bucky being any more gorgeous than he already was, but you kept your thoughts to yourself.

You stood up, preparing to dive to find the narco-sub, and Bucky stood up behind you. You went to stand on the back ledge of the boat, ready to dive off, but Bucky’s hand around your wrist stopped you.

“What?” You questioned, looking back at him.

“Aren’t you gonna take your clothes off?” He asked, eyeing your outfit that you had worn on the jet.

“Excuse me?” You balked, tearing your wrist free from Bucky’s grasp. His eyes seemed to go wide as he realized how his question sounded and a slight blush colored his cheeks.

“I, I didn’t mean it like that.” He stammered, rubbing his neck with the back of his hand, “I just meant won’t your clothes get all wet.”

“Oh...well the simple answer is no. When I hit the water my clothes disappear and they reappear when I’m dry again.”

“Disappear? Where do they go?” Bucky asked, curiosity oozing out of him like a small child.

“I promise I’ll answer all your questions when I get back but we really need to find the sub, so can I go now?” You replied, body itching to be in the water again, to feel your tail return to you. Bucky gave you a nod and you were off, you dove into the water and headed down towards the sub. You relished in the feel of a fin instead of feet, how fast you could go underwater. You saw a few fish swim past you and you smiled at them, it had been way too long since you had done this.

About ten minutes later you began to swim back to the surface. As you got closer you saw Bucky’s legs kicking lazily in the water and you realized he was sitting on the back ledge of the boat, waiting for you to come back. You resurfaced to the right of his feet and leaned your arms against the ledge.

“So what’d you find?” Bucky asked, squinting in the mid-afternoon sun out on the lake.

“Half of the drugs and weapons are gone. I guess they took what they could when they realized they were compromised before letting the rest rot at the bottom of the lake.”

Bucky nodded his head in agreement but he seemed distracted by something. It was only a moment later when you realized he was distracted by you. Or rather, your tail that flapped lazily in the water. He noticed that you had noticed him staring and quickly averted his gaze, a pink blush once again decorating his features. You hadn’t pegged Bucky for a blusher but you thought it was cute every time it happened.

“Sorry.” He apologized, making it a point to look everywhere but at you.

“It’s okay, I told you I’d answer your questions, remember?” You replied, teasing him gently. But another part of you really meant it. Not many people got to see you like this so you never had to talk about it, much less answer curious questions from your teammates. Especially teammates as attractive as Bucky Barnes.

At your words, Bucky brought his head back down to get a proper look at your tail. You turned around so your back and elbows were leaning against the deck. You let your deep violet tail breach out of the water so Bucky could see it better. You heard him gasp as your scales caught in the sunlight, changing the violet color to resemble fuchsia instead. Bucky’s eyes raked over your tail before taking in the top half of your body as well, resting on the flesh colored webbing that wound its way over your chest.

“What, no seashell bra?” He teased. You simply rolled your eyes in annoyance at the question.

“Is that the only question you have for me?” You bantered back, rolling along in the water to face him once more, forearms resting on the ledge. Your wet hair cascaded down your back, it didn’t matter how long or short you cut your hair, in the water the length was always the same, stopping just above the small of your back.

“How, um, how long have you been like this?”

“Well I wasn’t born a mermaid if that’s what you’re wondering. When I was sixteen I went on a trip with my parents to the beach. One night, something pulled me out of bed, almost like a strange sensation. I followed it to a cave and into the water that was there, like my own personal pool. I waded into the water just as the full moon rose above and then the strangest thing happened. The water started to bubble and fizz around me and it felt more like a natural hot spring than a cold pool. I got out of the water not long after that and I didn’t think much about it until the next day when I went swimming in the water early in the morning and sprouted a tail.”

“What did your parents say?” He questioned, leaning his elbows against his thighs to get closer to you.

“They didn’t believe me until I showed them. They’re biologists so they tried to find a natural explanation for it but all their tests came back inconclusive and I accepted that there are some things in this world that you simply cannot explain.” You told him, having spent countless nights yourself trying to figure out what happened to you to make you what you are today.

“So this” He started, gesturing towards your purple tail, “happens every time you touch water.” You simply nodded in response.

“My hydrokinetic abilities can be accessed any time but they’re stronger when I’m in the water.”

“You’re not gonna make me drown myself by singing to me are you?” He questioned, half teasing but with a wary look in his eyes.

“No, there’s no chance of that, but weird things do tend to happen each full moon which is why I try my best to avoid them.”

You and Bucky talked for a little while longer, him asking questions and you answering them to the best of your abilities. Bucky saw that the sun was setting and made his way to stand up.

“Okay, it’s getting late. We should probably head back to the beach house for the night.”

“You go ahead, I haven’t been out in the water in the longest time. I’ll meet you back in about an hour.”

“You sure?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at you from his place behind the wheel.

“I’m sure.” You replied before diving into the depths of the lake once again. You treasured the feeling of the freshwater in your hair and how your tail whipped through the water making you the fastest thing around. You hadn’t felt this exhilarated in two years and you didn’t intend to get out of the water any time soon.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fanfic #avengers fanfic #reader insert

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the-headbop-wraith · 3 years

Text

2 _ Welcome Guests

The bright flame shimmered and pulsed as it descended to eye level of the bipedal members of the group. It seemed wholly contained and self-animate, completely isolated of the dark expanse of the air that manifested its presence.

As Vivi watched mesmerized by the gentle motions, she almost expected a candlestick to melt into existence beneath the raw pink flicker. She was ecstatic when this event failed to transpire and instead the flames moved forward following the soothing pulsing of the fire. The frail movement reminded her of something more than a candle flame, its pulse and flash reminiscent of an ancient motion, a quivering solitary dance as though the light followed a tempo of its own whim. A silent beat, throbbing and pulsing with no hitch or pause. It struck her immediately what the rhythm was that eluded her mind, the idea of it impossible but if this was a free manifesting apparition of sorts, it made perfect since. The realization struck a chord in her, the sensation both terrifying and exhilarating in the same swing and it only fortified her conclusion.

The tempo the flame followed matched the same steady pump of her heartbeat.

“Art,” Vivi called, softly. “Art. There’s a camera in the bag you have, right?” She never took her eyes off the fuchsia flame, even as it dimmed upon contact with a candle wick it alit upon. Vivi felt her pulse go cold at the prospect of the spirit diminishing before they had a chance to take pictures, or worse if she was the only one witnessing the scene. Ever since she indicated the flame, Arthur had made no sound to confirm he saw what she saw.

Candlesticks fitted into candle fixtures along the wall began to flare to life, one after and on the wall opposite to where the flame had settled. Vivi took a sharp breath; the coloration was beautiful with a texture that reminded her of light refracted through water. A smooth magenta wave rushing along the dark blue wall paper and fuchsia rug that they stood upon.

There was a sound behind her as a zipper rattled and Arthur’s low grumbles. “Hold on,” Arthur answered. “Which pocket was it in? Oh, never mind. Found it.” The camera in question was the one they used earlier that day to take pictures of their clients home, but the images had since been moved to the laptop. “Vivi, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Arthur dropped the open bag and hastened to catch up, as Mystery too began to follow the slow precession of animate light.

Arthur admitted to himself he felt better now that he could see, but this activity was strong and it made him nervous. Foremost, he wanted to make certain the group didn’t get separated. As Arthur followed Vivi along the brightening hall, he fumbled with the camera until he had the movie recorder running and turned the lens on the walls pulsating with a unanimous tempo. He felt some relief when the parallel walls came to an end and no more candles flared to life, though it meant beyond was a dark blue wall within the sweeping curves that dimmed beyond the steady glow of the candles.

Every other step Arthur took, he noted that Mystery would turn to look back at him but otherwise he kept close to Vivi. Arthur wanted to say comforting words to his companion but Mystery was good in these situations, and Arthur found himself comforted by the dogs cool nature.

“Are you getting this?” Vivi asked. She stood just within the open interior of the mansions main room.

Arthur followed her gaze to a chandelier suspended above a high staircase, its metal frame inspired by the card set of spades. Or, another theme based on a heart? The growing dread was chewing through his guts and caused his left shoulder to ache.

“I’m getting it,” Arthur said. He tried to raise the camera but his arms were heavy, he couldn’t tear his focus from the globs of light snapping into existence along the chandeliers base and top. Arthur did manage to shield his eyes before the cold blue frame burst with light and the entire room, banister, balcony, and upper floor was scorched by a coat of luminous magenta. “Geeze,” he hissed. Arthur turned his eyes down in time to catch Mystery pacing in front of Vivi, then moving to stand between her and him.

The entire floor from what Vivi could make out was rundown and in disrepair, but not devastated. The wallpaper was peeling from the walls bare backside but the carpet was still intact. There was no suggestion of vermin or living creatures, aside from a few moths upset by the furious blaze of light. Everything had a purplish tint, and through her glasses the coloration was splendid. Some of the lower walls had paintings of people with no relation to the home aside from evident aristocrat status. Vivi was amazed to view the suits of armor placed at the twin halls that branched off from the main room, set on either side of the staircase. Everything about this place was amazing, it was difficult to believe the home was still intact though it didn’t seem like it had been abandoned for long, if it was a condemned home. The road was off the map and in some disrepair, but there was nothing to stop urban explorers from invading.

Which left one extraordinary conclusion she was delighted to come upon. The home was recently invaded by a spook, leaving the original tenants to abandon their luxurious home. Vivi was disappointed that she had heard nothing about it over the usual paranormal channels. But maybe the owners didn’t want curious investigators to come traipsing in during their absence. That was in all likely hood, many still refused to accept spirits as a scientific study, and others didn’t want that particular detail in the papers of a deed.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Vivi whispered.

Arthur nodded. The camera was now raised and he was getting tolerable images of the curious gleaming chandelier and the floor along with a metal door or wall decoration, he couldn’t tell from his position what. “That we’re not welcomed here,” he hissed.

“No,” Vivi shot back. “If we were not welcomed, we wouldn’t have been allowed in.” There was movement to the left side, beneath the staircase. “Over there, I saw a shadow.” Vivi waved a hand over her shoulder, gesturing Arthur to follow. Without a command Mystery led the way, still casting a glance back to Arthur every few steps.

Arthur swallowed the knot in his throat as he picked up the pace. “More like trapped in here, if you ask me,” he said. Despite his misgivings he followed Vivi, conastnly casting glances over his shoulder dreading that Mystery was not looking to him but may be seeing something else completely. Dogs were not always reliable in the paranormal much like people but Mystery was an exception he was glad to have with them. “There’s a reason this house is abandoned.”

“Way ahead of you,” Vivi said, as they neared the hall. There was a side room set beneath the upper floor that encircled the main rooms interior, and vibrant fuchsia was dotting the candles set along book shelves and upon a long table stretched along the wall. “I’m sure a place this big has a back door.” She stopped before the long hall struggling to see through the dark haze as the light spread across the walls.

Arthur glanced back over his shoulder, mirroring Mystery’s compulsion. “Would you— Geeze, CREPES!” Mystery gave a sharp yelp and took off, Arthur cursed as grabbed Vivi’s blue sleeve and jerked her with them. “RUN!”

Vivi didn’t ask questions if Mystery was running. She charged right onto Arthur’s heels nearly running him over as she turned her head, in time to catch a glimpse of a line of four spirits. FOUR magenta shrouds that vaguely had a shape, with tawny bulbs for eyes and pointed teeth aimed at them as they took off. “Non-descript specters,” she said. Vivi whipped her attention back to Arthur and Mystery ahead of her. Arthur kept glancing back and nearly stumbling as he made eye contact with her, in his hand was the forgotten camera clutched tightly in his flesh fingers.

Theoretically, non-descript specters could be harmless; their definition labeled them a common spook that had lost touch with humanity and shrugged off any individual shape aside from arms and eyes, maybe a face. Non-descript specters could resume a human shape if they were triggered in some way but not often, and were most commonly viewed as shadow people through images.

They were attributed to poltergeist activities and sometimes hostile, able to leave scratches or burn marks on the living. And there were four of them, enough to frighten Mystery off with an aggressive approach.

“How long is this hall?” Arthur yelped, nearly out of breath. They passed by a suit of armor twice and candelabras set up every few feet, he was beginning to expect more supernatural mischief at work. “Vivi! Vi! You still with us?” he gasped, turning back again and nearly stumbling into the wall.

“They’re not following!” Vivi hollered back. “I think we just startled them! Did you get it on camera?”

Arthur managed a dry laugh. “Oh god, Vi! You’re amazing, have I said that lately?” He looked back over his shoulder, completely missing the suit of armor to his left that jerked to life.

Vivi screamed. “Arthur! Look out! Duck!”

The instant Arthur swung around, Mystery launched up with incredible speed and kicked at the small of Arthur’s back with his paws. Arthur pitched forward onto the fuchsia rug, and Vivi, fearful at the last second she couldn’t dive down in time, catapulted her body upward as high as she could with her momentum and shot over the silver blade that sliced through the air.

Vivi chocked when she came down hard on her stomach, the carpet burned through her blue sweater as she skid to a halt. Arthur lost momentum first, and Vivi couldn’t stop herself from tumbling over his legs.

The first to rise was Arthur, dragging himself out from under Vivi and turning to her. “You okay?” Arthur asked, shaking her shoulder. “Mystery!”

It took a moment for the harsh pain to subside in her stomach but the moment Vivi raised her head, she saw what had panicked Arthur to shriek out. “Mystery! No-NO! Mystery!” She moved to the other side of the white body, confusion overtaking her face when there was no crimson pouring from the quivering shoulders. She shared a short breath and uneasy gasp with Arthur, when Mystery raised his head to look at either of his companions. Mystery wagged his tail and whined.

“You scared the crap out of me!” Arthur snapped. He tried to hide the fact he was at the verge of tears by leaning away to retrieve the dogs amber spectacles from the hard wood floor. “But I’m glad you’re okay, bud.”

Mystery made a soft groan and leaned forward licking Arthur’s face. The affection ceased when Mystery sat up more comfortably and looked beyond Arthur’s shoulder to the wall.

Vivi winced away from the wall behind her, where a line of oil paintings hung depicting an old heritage left behind but not forgotten; men and woman and families portrayed in dab color of a Victorian era, white trimmed sleeves and collars and fine dress ware to project their stature in their prime. The portraits seemed to glare down on the small group with hostile eyes, white faces gazing through softly glowing eyes wavering in the group’s haggard breath like candles. “Arthur. Hand me the camera,” Vivi said, reaching to his hand but not breaking her gaze from the pictures.

“You are impossible,” he hissed, but Arthur handed her the camera nonetheless. Arthur began to stand as Vivi brought the camera to her face, still knelt where she was she flashed a picture out of movie mode for a splint second. The next instant, when the flash cleared, Arthur found himself being dragged by his orange vest.

“RUN! RUN!” Vivi chanted. Arthur didn’t question it, though he was curious to what she might’ve seen in the short blaze of white light amidst the photography moment. Still, no questions. He ran as if the paintings themselves had dropped off the wall and were now crawling after them by their arms. “I see some doors ahead,” Vivi said, through pants. “One’s got to lead to a courtyard!”

“Okay, okay,” Arthur panted, as he stumbled to a stop at the first door. “Wait, let me have a go.” Arthur glanced around as Vivi stepped to give him clear room of the old oak door. The paintings were gone, as were the suits of armor. He chest still heaved as he tried to get his pulse stabilized. “Back Mystery,” he says. “I’ll go first.” He turned the handle with his good arm and pulled the door back slowly. The room inside was dark and a clammy draft swept out over his face. “Wish we didn’t leave the flashlight behind.”

Vivi checked the two ends of the hall as well, expecting at any moment a suit of armor with piercing magenta eyes to march towards them from the gloom. “It probably wouldn’t do us any good,” she said.

“I know,” Arthur admitted. “Comfort is all.” He held the door open and Vivi and Mystery filed in. He shivered at the cold and the downright sharpness in the dark room. The window high on the wall allowed enough of the quarter moon to blaze through the cracked and boarded up window, the room itself had an armchair and a cold fire place along with counters lining the chipped walls. Mystery moved to lie down on the round carpet set in the center of the room. “Once I catch my breath I’ll try and get the window open. If I have to, I’ll shatter it.” He wrapped his good arm around the prosthetic and glared up at his gray reflection in the glass.

“Right,” Vivi said. “But we might need to beat it if you do try. Those spirits will be connected to this place, and they’ll find us fast if they detect you doing any harm.”

“Me?” Arthur chocked. “It’s not like I want to wreck their house. I just want all of us out of here.” He took the arm chair by the back and wrestled the cold chunk of furniture over to the windows base. “Fuck,” he snorted, pressing his shoulder at the lower back. “Don’t make crap like this anymore.” When he managed to place the chair a tolerable distance from the window, he climbed up onto the back and perched there staring through the glass.

Vivi turned toward one of the counters to the opposite side of the room, the polished surface gleamed pink under her glassed. “I’m glad they’re here,” she said, mostly to herself. Arthur turned his attention from the window and to her. “They’re protecting it, I think. Keeping vandals out.”

“Yeah?” Arthur hissed. He looked back through the window. He couldn’t come to grips that they were somehow upstairs? Unless the backyard was dug out to fill a garden full of brambles and cobblestone. “Don’t suppose you considered maybe they forced the living owners out?” he said.

“I did,” Vivi responded, peering up at him through her tinged glasses. Mystery turned his eyes from her to Arthur and back without lifting his head. “But, it is kind of said, you know?” Vivi said. “Where else would they go? They’re trapped here. At least,” she sighed. “At least they have each other.” She looked down to some shadow on the floor cast by the jagged knots of the trees reaching toward the dark sky outside.

Arthur said nothing and barely made a sound. He lowered to his haunches on the chairs backside, his good shoulder resting to the ratty paper peeling from the wall. After a short time of resting, he made a harsh coughing but said nothing. Each member lost to their own thoughts, struggling to find an answer, their way out.

At length, Arthur heaved another heavy sigh. “Why didn’t I pick up a dispel?” he grumbled. “Stupid.” Vivi said nothing over that subject and eventually propped herself beside the wall, opposite to where Arthur was perched lost in his thoughts. “Are you still filming?” Arthur asked. Vivi shook her head but said nothing, just let her face sink down in her dark blue scarf. “Can I see the picture you took?” Again she shook her head, and stuffed the camera into her sweater. Arthur shifted his footing and rested on his knees.

After a span of time that was probably much shorter than it seemed, Vivi stood up. “Are you read?” she asked. Vivi set her hand on the icy handle and looked back, as Arthur untangled himself and staggered off the chairs cushion. “No way to get out from here, huh?”

Brief confusion flashed in Arthur’s eyes, until it registered and he frowned and looked aside. “Unless you got long flowing hair tucked under your head band, or you want to hunt around for a mile of bed sheets that won’t tear,” Arthur muttered. “Maybe we can find steps that lead to a door? Or something. The architecture of these old-old houses is usually really weird like that. Custom and one of a kind.” He smoothed his amber hair back. “At any rate, we’d draw too much attention.”

Vivi nodded. “Come on Mystery,” she called. “We’re not going anywhere without you.”

At her call, Mystery sprang up and trotted over to the two. Arthur took a moment to reach down and pet the dogs shoulder as Vivi opened the door and stepped out.

The same magenta tinge coated the walls, stopping short the ceiling where the hue was a darker shade. No hostility was camped on the other side of the door, no suit of armor or pulsating flames to welcome their emergence. Arthur moved up closer beside Vivi as the left the dark room, Vivi scouted one end of the hall while Arthur turned his focus to the other direction. Vivi gripped his shoulder certain she was hearing a sound, a low thudding and creak, but she dismissed it as her own taxed heart.

“Looks clear form this side,” Vivi whispered.

“This way too,” Arthur said. He moved his foot aside as Mystery slid out between the doorframe and his leg. “Which way did we come from?”

Vivi slanted her eyebrows as she turned to check the direction Arthur had his attention. “Uh….” She pulled the door shut behind them and turned into what she was certain would be the correct way. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?” Vivi said.

Arthur followed her lead, certain that either direction of the hall would lead to the front or back of the house. “We might not be able to trust our eyes,” Arthur mentioned. He scanned the walls, and found more paintings hung on the fuchsia plaster. “Or Mystery’s keen senses.”

This was obvious enough to Vivi by now, if paintings were capable of… that, and emotions. They were being tricked, maybe led into circles. “They can’t be aggressive,” Vivi says, still looking to the disapproving glares of the portraits at their shoulders. “They have no reason to be.”

“They might not have a lot of tolerance for ghost hunters,” Arthur interjected. “They might’ve lost patience with our type when the original owners tried to exorcise their presence. They have every right to conclude that, if they have any inkling of what’s in that bag I dropped in the entrance hall.”

Vivi was about to cue in on Arthur’s train of thought, but made a soft sound instead when it clicked in her head. It was a sound theory and she had no proof otherwise. The aggression earlier was intimidating enough to ensure once they left they would never come back and would guarantee there would be no follow ups. If the spirits calculated that far ahead.

“What’s keeping them here?” Vivi asked. Arthur jarred when her voice punched through the veil of silence he had coiled about his mind. “They can’t be afraid of moving on.”

The amber sleeves twitched as he shrugged. “They probably just forget,” he said. “That, or they don’t care anymore. They’re nondescript spirits. Remember what they taught us? It’s hardest for them to move on. Maybe,” Arthur paused as something came to his mind, but he dismissed it as they moved out from the tight hall and the dim candlelight. “Maybe they stayed behind because they didn’t know they were supposed to move on.”

Moonlight pours through the large slanted window that line the backside of the mansion, the group moves beside a wall dark and cold with frigid night air. The floor is tiled and the windows overlook a small garden below coated in weeds and sharp tangles of brambles. Arthur mentions it’s a sun porch, due to the few chairs that had been left out by the previous occupants.

Mystery trots on ahead and Vivi follows. “Then their should be steps leading down to the yard?” she asked.

“I don’t see any,” Arthur answered. He edged near the windows constantly looking down, hoping for a glimpse of a pathway or clear spot that would indicate the location of a door. What he does not expect to see is a dark shape cutting into the brambles and melting into the hazardous shadows. Cold waves soak into Arthur’s back and he pushes Vivi along toward a door a few ways to their path, leading away from the yard. “Something’s out there,” he snaps.

“Arthur, you’re shaking!” Vivi doesn’t fight him. She catches sight of the door and tears it open. “What is it?” she pleads. “What did you see?”

“I don’t know. Don’t look back. Mystery, hurry,” he calls over his shoulder, trying not to glimpse out the windows and to the canopy of trees. “Go Mystery. Go.”

Mystery yaps as he sprints through the door Vivi opens. The dog comes to a halt on dark carpet beneath magenta candles burning high above on the wall. Mystery stops in his tracks and looks between the two doors, one set into the side of a wall and one hidden in a dark blanket cast by the stairs twisting around the rooms interior and upward, to the second floor.

Arthur snagged the handle of the dark door, until a set of tangy eye sockets stretched out of the wood. “Whoa!” Arthur spat. He snapped his hand back as if the doorknob was on fire. “Shit!” He pivoted in place when Vivi smashed her back into his. Vivi had gone for the other door, but one of the spirits had melted from the wood and was glaring at her from the ripped carpet with an agitated expression. Beneath the insubstantial chin fluttered a yellow shape flashing at a slower rate, compared to the rapid throbs of the terrified intruders.

Vivi grabbed Arthur’s vest and dragged him to the stairs. “We’ll find a way around,” she snapped. Arthut tripped over his feet but managed to get back upright and hurry up the steps. Mystery was right beside him and Vivi was not far behind. Vivi crashed into his backside when he stopped in his tracks right on the first five steps. “What are—” Her voice cut off as she heard the unmistakable groan of timber snapping. Under her feet the steps began sinking, the wood crumbled. Vivi turned her face up to Arthur, the light of the candles flashed over her glasses as their eyes met.

Mystery bit down on Arthur’s leg and snarled, urging him to move with what little force he would afford himself. But Mystery’s two legged companions had not the stability nor the strength to get up the remaining five steps.

The candles flashed out as Arthur swept out his good arm and took Vivi’s wrist. “I’m sor—” A deafening crunch echoed throughout the hall as the steps shattered beneath them. Arthur felt his backside scrap jagged wood as he hit the side of the floor upon descent but he didn’t let go of Vivi’s hand, and she gripped his hand tightly as the glimmering yellow eyes peered down growing smaller and smaller as they feel deeper and deeper.

“It’ll be all right!” Vivi called. “I promise!” There was a light somewhere below, somewhere around them. She looked to Arthur, his eyes full of tears. He shook his head.

“No. No, it won’ be,” he said, voice cracking as he forced the words. “It’ll never be all right. Never! Vivi, I’m sorry! I didn’t….” His words died in his throat as he looked down, eyes wideningat the emptiness that awaited below. “I deserve this! But not you!” The shimmer in his eyes winked out as he cringed. “Not you!”

Vivi tightened her grip on his hand struggling to bring him back, assure him. “Arthur!” She stopped there when a sudden flash sliced through the magenta gloom. The sudden brightness blinded her briefly but she saw what it was clearly, she was certain of it. She jerks her head around in time to see the pools of silver they pass in their fall, and Vivi’s eyes caught enough of what she didn’t want to see.

Open sleeve, white and crisp and empty of its former occupant. Arthur didn’t see, she didn’t think, she prayed he didn’t. The mirror nearest to her was near equally as terrifying, and though she only had a glimpse of its image Viv knew it would haunt her for many nights to follow. Hollow. As if the image was burned into the back of her skull. Vivi blinked and felt her mind dimming, the dark colors swept past her faster and faster and she felt Arthur’s hand slip from her’s.

“Arthur?” she asked. “Arth?” Vivi’s eyelids became so heavy, as if a cold hand was pressing into her fevered brow. She mumbled out in confusion and did what she promised herself she would never do again. She let go of Arthur’s hand. His screams became distant and weak, somewhere far below, but Vivi had no further drive left in her and decided it couldn’t matter anymore. The darkness bundled up her body and soaked into her mind until nothing mattered, and she surrendered to the rocking sensation that lulled her into the deepest sleep she could ever remember. Her last thoughts were anguished and pleas for Arthur, but it didn’t feel like it was Arthur she was weeping for.

#mystery skulls #mystery skulls fanfiction #msa fanfiction #msa fanfic #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls fanfic #msa #mystery skulls ghost #msa arthur #msa vivi

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romantic-hero · 4 years

Text

Homecoming.....

Isabella Rose Poldark was six months old before her father returned from France. Demelza was hanging up the wash that August morning when Caroline Enys’s carriage was heard before it pulled into Nampara’s courtyard.

“Caroline! Has something happened?” cried Demelza as she ran towards her friend who had alighted the steps and stood with her hands out, reaching for Demelza.

“Yes! But don’t worry, my love. It is good news. Dwight has had word that Ross will land at Plymouth this morning.”

Demelza thought she might faint. She was glad to grasp Caroline’s hands as it kept her from falling.

“I’ve come to get the children and Prudie so that you may have Ross all to yourself.” Caroline explained “If he landed with the tide, you only have but a few hours to make ready!”

“Oh, Caroline. That is so nice of you, but I’m sure Ross will want to see the children. Why he’s never even seen Bella.”

“Yes, my dear. And Ross will have the rest of his life to make up for being gone so long. But I can assure you a few hours or days will make no difference.” Caroline reached into the carriage and brought out a large hamper. “Cook sent this, so you won’t have to worry about what to feed him.” She handed Demelza the large basket, then turned towards the house. “Prudie! Jeremy! Clowance!”

Jeremy was the first to appear. “Aunt Caroline! “

“My dearest, get your sisters and Prudie and come to Killewarren with me. Uncle Dwight has a new microscope and Horace is as lonely as can be. “ Caroline bestowed her most charming smile and when Prudie finally poked her head out the door, Caroline told her, “Get the children and come with me to Killewarren. Captain Poldark is arriving home this very morning.”

Prudie looked at Demelza. “I hate to leave you mistress, but ..” Prudie saw how bright Demelza’s eyes were shining. “I know the Captain will like a quiet welcome.”

Before she knew it, all three children and their clothes and toys were loaded into the carriage and as she waved good bye Demelza ‘s mind was frantic. The house was a mess and oh my God. Ross was coming home!

She ran inside and put books and toys and sewing away. She gathered papers from the table and when the kitchen and living room were straightened she ran upstairs and made the bed. How she wished she had time for a proper bath, but she did her best. She took off her clothes and washed herself. Then she put on a clean shift and her newest stays and the her best dress she recently had made in Truro. She brushed her long titan curls and threw the bath water out the window.

Back in the kitchen she unpacked Caroline’s offering, and smiled. So unpractical, but utterly perfect. Two bottles of champagne and one of brandy. Marzipan, strawberries, some fine cheddar and fresh baguettes that Killewarren’s French cook was famous for. There was sliced beef and wrapped carefully was a custard pie.

“Flowers!” Demelza said out loud, and she hurried to her garden happy that a few late blooms of roses were left, but glad for the abundance of dahlias and fuchsia, their gay colors bright against the green hedges. As she was placing her arrangements throughout the house, she looked out the window and there across the fields she spied the familiar tricorn atop the rider galloping towards Nampara.

Demelza raced down the stairs as Ross pulled into the courtyard and she flew out the door and into his arms.

sexy sex..

There were no words. After months of yearning and longing and loneliness just breathing in his breath, his sent, made Demelza bold with desire and suddenly she could wait no longer.

She grabbed two fistfuls of of his long, black heavy linen coat and pulled him close. “Judas, Ross. I was beginning to think I’d never see you again!” She took in his dark unruly curls, the dark stubble that stained his cheeks and chin and stared deeply into his brown eyes. “My god, I’ve missed you!”

Ross laughed. “After all this time, you still desire to be with me?” He put his hands on his wife’s hips and brought her body to him so he could feel her whole length against him.

Immediately Demelza was aware of his arousal, and her hand reached down his breeches and Ross groaned before his lips found Demelza’s and they kissed frantically their mouths colliding, their front teeth knocking on the first try, but in a second his tongue had pushed past her lips and all was sweet and hurried. The kisses as heady and passionate as their first time. Ross’s hands found the curve of her rump and forced her even closer. Demelza put her hands on his strong, muscular shoulders and jumped up wrapping her legs around his waist as tightly as she could. For now that Ross was home, she didn’t think she’d ever let him go.

Somehow they didn’t fall, and Ross walked into Nampara and pinned her against the ancient paneling of the entry way.

“The children?” he rasped.

“Killewarren,” she whispered and they returned to the most urgent of matters.

Ross kissed her neck, his hands cupping her breasts. Being together at last was so exquisite that neither noticed the painting they knocked from the wall. Finally Ross was able to let her down and as he stood before her he started undoing Demelza’s clothes, his forehead wrinkled in concentration as he slowly undressed his wife.

“Judas,” Demelza thought. “He’s still the handsomest man in all of Cornwall.”

Ross finally had her dress off and then he unlaced her stays and lifted her shift over her head. She stood before him naked and he marveled at her beauty. Perhaps she was even more beautiful than he remembered.

Then he knelt before her and looked at her. Demelza felt impatient. It had been almost a year since he’d last touched her and she quivered with the anticipation of his fingers against her skin. Ross reached up and brushed her nipples with his calloused finger tips and then he took one leg and draped it over his shoulder as his lips kissed a trail up one thigh and down the other. Demelza made a pleading sound in the back of her throat and then his hands were on her derrière, and he pulled her forward until his mouth was right tnere, and he licked and sucked, his tongue tasing her sweetness which was far more intoxicating than the finest wine he had ever drunk.

“Oh, Ross,” Demelza knocked her head against a sconce, but the pain didn’t register. She lowed her eyes because as busy as he was with his mouth, his eyes had never left her face. She was suddenly shy, but she didn’t want him to stop. The pleasure was so intense it was painful. Her hands were lost in his hair as she tried to keep her balance. She couldn’t help but call his name over and over, and she was glad there was no one near to hear her cries as his lips teased her into a release that weakened her knees and brought tears to her eyes,

Ross stood up, and his lips were wet and she tasted herself and it was breathtaking and urgent. She wanted him more than she thought possible. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him again, and after fumbling with his buttons finally he was inside of her, sliding in with a groan of deepest pleasure and desire. Demelza squeezed down on his cock and his thrusts were deep and long, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. It was all breathing and moaning and loving, it felt so good it made Demelza’s head spin.

It was all so explosive, things got a bit rough, a bit careless. The sconce fell and hit Demelza’s shoulder and she cried out. Her body was on fire and she took Ross along for the ride. He came with that usual little moan from the back of his throat, and his knees buckled a little as he tried to keep them both up. Demelza held on as tight as she could while he breathed hard against her neck. She didn’t want to let him go, but her thigh muscles were jelly and her legs slid from his hips. Ross’s hands sneaked up and spread across her back as he got his balance, his cock slipping out of her as they stumbled apart.

They stayed like that for a minute, with the old wall doing most of the work of holding them up. Demelza kissed the side of his neck and inhaled his musky scent. She looked at him and they both grinned. Demelza sent a trail of kisses along his jaw line. Ross leaned his forehead gently against hers . His eyes stared into Demelza’s until they were finally able to breathe normally.

"Demelza," he said in his deep, yet sweet way, for he truly adored her as much as she adored him. "I love you."

Suddenly it was all too much. His return. The future ahead. Demelza fought off tears. "I love you too, my love ,” she told him as her fingers held onto his shirt, over the spot where she knew his heart was.

Later, they sat at the kitchen table. Demelza naked under his coat, eating strawberries as he cut the bread and sliced the cheddar Caroline had provided.

“Shall we go to Killewarren and get the children?” Ross asked as he lifted one of the bottles of champagne from the hamper.

“Tomorrow,” replied Demelza.

They both laughed as Ross popped the cork and then after taking a long drink passed the bottle to his wife. “Yes, tomorrow, my love.” And he leaned across the table and kissed her once again.

#poldark #fanfiction #ross poldark #demelza poldark #return to us poldark

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

Text

Shadows of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 21

Shadows of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because Naia is in the guest room of the castle!

Last times on book: Naia was on a journey to Ha’rar to defend her brother from a treason charge until Tavra told her to go home. Naia decided not to go home and went to the Castle of the Crystal where she encountered Tavra again. Before Tavra could tell Naia something important, the Gelflings were bustled in front of the Emperor for a tense conversation. Then Tavra sent Naia away to the guest room, in guise of being her retainer.

Kylan has fallen out of the synopsis. Isn’t it sad?

Chapter 23

Naia disobeys Tavra for, what, the fifth or seventh time? by immediately leaving where she’s supposed to be and starts sneaking around the castle seeing weird, alarming stuff.

Naia goes off with some Gelfling guards for the All-Maudra’s guest room but things are weird.

Gurjin described the castle as bustling with activity but it seems weirdly empty and quiet. What guards there are are silent. When she tries to talk to the guard escorting her, he doesn’t reply. And his expression is weird and lifeless. Something is going on here, in the Castle of the Crystal!

So, of course, instead of doing what Tavra probably wants and staying put, Naia sneaks out of the guest chamber as soon as she can.

Remember the last chapter where she regretted how impetuous she’d been? She’s doubling down!

Naia follows the smell of food because hot food means kitchen and kitchen means cooks and attendants and people that can tell her whats up with her brother.

But the Podlings that leave the kitchen with carts of food for the dining hall are... weird.

They don’t have any of the animation or energy that Naia associates with the few Podlings she’s met. And their eyes... are milky white...

OH CRAP

I was just hit by some massive dramatic irony. I know whats going on but Naia do not.

Also: I guess that settles it. I’ve been suspecting that the YA novels were a separate continuity. I mean, we didn’t even have the massive psychic conference call where Aughra explains the plot which happened before Naia went to the castle, I thought. Because she doesn’t know the plot. But Tavra knows something.

But I don’t think the Skeksis learned that they could turn Podlings into slaves with the crystal during the series. And they definitely didn’t do that with Gelflings (what I think is implied with the guards) because Gelflings explode when drained.

We’re in a brave new world here.

Naia also notes that the Podlings have wooden shackles clasped around their ankles which she considers both horrible and weirdly unnecessary considering how sluggish they are.

She keeps moving. Apparently the castle is 90% hallway because she can’t find a room to just stop and have a think in. Its just hallway and hallway and hallway. All the way hallway.

And the hallways are all empty. She doesn’t run into any guards in her wandering or more of the weird Podlings or anything but bugs and crawlies.

What’s going onnnn?

She finds a weird fuchsia light shining and follows it, recognizing it from all the dark crystals she kept seeing. The passage toward it is gated off but without guards to guard the gate, Naia just climbs over it.

And so she comes to the Crystal Chamber, where the Crystal of Truth floats over the hole that goes right to Thra’s fiery core because this is a sensible element for a world to have ha.

This was not the white pure Heart of Thra told of in song. This heart was the color of the crystal veins - the shadw of a heart already darkened. In the Crystal’s crown was a wound, a hole surrounded by fractures from when it had been struck. Naia shuddered at the sight, the source of the broken song, the crack that had caused the Crystal to bleed violet and red, darkening, its pain flowing through its veins to reach every part of Thra.

Naia felt tears on her cheeks, knowing what she wished was not true.

The Crystal was not in danger of infection by the crystal veins.

It was the source.

Woooooooooow.

I do kind of wonder though. If Gelfling all think the Crystal should be white, was it hard to have it guarded? Or was part of guard orientation ‘its purple now, don’t question your Lords’?

Remember that thing from the movie where the Crystal was also a TV? It was associated with the crystal bats in some way that I don’t remember, I don’t know if the Crystal could just see everywhere or not but it can definitely see inside the castle. Also, they never really do much with the Crystal’s ability to display imagery, huh?

Either on one of the faces of the Crystal, or in her own brain, Naia sees Tavra in the Dining Hall with the Skeksis.

Handy way to include a scene while keeping to the POV.

Anyway, Tavra sent Naia away because she was about to get Real with the Skeksis.

She’s heard weird rumors about the castle and things aren’t adding up. The Skeksis are sending Gelfling all over the place to look for Gurjin but rumor has it that he’s in the castle? There’s been rumors of vanishing Podlings. And worse, rumors about the Crystal.

The Skeksis deny all of it and tell her to get lost.

“Then vow it!” Tavra demanded. “Vow to me it’s the truth! Vow to me that should I search this castle, I’ll find no sign of the guards you accused of treason, and that should I look in on the Crystal, I’ll find it shining white and bright as it did the day it became entrusted to you!”

The mood instantly shifts into furtive whispers.

This.... is a bold strategy, Tavra. I don’t know if the ideal one but certainly bold!

She continues questioning. Where are all the castle guards? There used to be two at every door and ten at the gate.

Oh so thats why the Chamberlain had to answer the door, ha.

There’s darkened creatures roaming Thra, the song of Thra is out of tune. And Tavra actually received a message from Rian claiming that the Skeksis are murderous liars and they have Gurjin.

Ok, so that’s how she knew where he was. Or suspected. And was trying to confirm.

And that’s why she tried to get Naia to leave instead of letting her march into a possible vipers den. Oof. You should have listened to the cheek squish, Naia.

“I am merely in search of truth,” she said. “Rian is an alleged traitor, so I cam to find out for myself. If I am wrong, I invite you to prove it... because if I am right, it is the Skeksis who have betrayed us. Betrayed the castle, and the Heart of Thra. And I do not want to be right.

Tavra really didn’t want to be right because you know that thing in the show where the Skeksis were honestly glad they could take off the mask of civility and just be bastards?

Yeah.

The Skeksis descend on Tavra in bulk.

In a parade of hysterical celebration and uncontrolled, garrulous fanfare, the Skeksis Lords tossed Tavra back and forth among them, finally dragging her with frantic waves of their berobed arms toward the exit. Even after they were out of sight, their deafening laughter and stomping feet beat through the body of the Crystal.

They drag Tavra off to the Chamber of Life while Naia ineffectually cries out in shock. Thankfully, the Crystal is a one-way mirror. Or security monitor. Or whatever.

Naia is left with the horrible realization that the Skeksis have betrayed the Gelfling and that she is far, far, far, far, far out of her depth.

She can’t just leave Tavra and Gurjin to run away. If for no other reason than the Hunter still lurking in the woods, kinda trapping her here until daylight.

And if a seasoned paladin like Tavra was so easily swatted by the Skeksis, what hope did Naia have?

Thankfully, the Crystal takes requests. Pretty user friendly, actually. Naia asks it to show her brother.

The Crystal moaned with its ghostly song, turning once again. In the walls of its body she saw a dark figure slumped near a window, and through the window she saw stars and the tops of trees. It was somewhere high in the turrets of the castle, and so without another moment’s hesitation, she dashed back into the maze of corridors, searching for a way up.

Huh.

Usually Skeksis throw people in more dungeony environs.

Actually, I have no idea what the layout of the castle it.

I assume that the Crystal chamber is pretty central. As it has the Crystal. And the Chamber of Life is under it so also central.

Nice of them to give Gurjin a room with a view though.

#dark crystal #the Dark Crystal #Shadows of the Dark Crystal #liveblog #Naia #Tavra #a conspiracy of Skeksis #a helpful crystal #top 10 anime betrayals

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johannesviii · 4 years

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Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 1998

This is a weird, weird list. I don’t know.

Also, I turned ten in 1998! Woohoo! That means I’ve made one third of these lists! It also means we’ve almost reached the point when I had a cd player and a better access to music. Not yet, though.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

And now, friends and enemies, a truckload of honorable mentions. Get used to this because it’s not gonna end soon.

Gettin' Jiggy Wit It (Will Smith) - Liked this more back in the day.

Everybody (Backstreet Boys) - Really like that music video. The song? It’s all right I guess.

Cruel Summer (Ace of Base) - Not as good as the original.

Turn it up/Fire it up (remix) (Busta Rhymes) - That sample is an excellent idea.

Panique Celtique (Manau) - Celtic rap. More on that later, I swear.

Save Tonight (Eagle-Eye Cherry) - This was a difficult cut.

We Like to Party (Vengaboys) - This was also a difficult cut because I love Vengaboys. Not my favorite song from them though.

10 - Music Sounds Better With You (Stardust)

US: Not on the list / FR: #35

Objectively, this is a great, catchy song, but I can’t place it higher in good conscience because overplay very nearly ruined it for me over the years.

9 - The Mummer’s Dance (Loreena McKennitt)

US: #83 / FR: Not on the list

I’d like to solemnly thank ToddInTheShadows, who made me realise Loreena McKennitt had a US year-end top 100 hit once, because otherwise I would only know about her thanks to a random cd I bought years ago. I love her work, and this is a great remix, so yeah. Very good, very strange that it was a hit ; check it out.

8 - Ton Invitation (Louise Attaque)

US: Not on the list / FR: #31

I used to absolutely hate this song and it took it more than 15 years to grow on me. I have nothing else to say about it. I can admit it’s very good now and I’m sorry it took me so long.

7 - Tubthumping (Chumbawamba)

US: #35 / FR: #Not on the list

This is a ton of fun and very energetic, and I don’t have anything to say about this one either. Except it could have made the previous list but in the end I put it on this one instead.

6 - Torn (Natalie Imbruglia)

US: Not on the list / FR: #21

Here’s the obligatory song-that-everyone-loves-including-me that won’t surprise anybody, but which I still really want to put on this list.

5 - Yakalelo (Nomads)

US: Not on the list / FR: #10

So, a couple of years after that one (around 2000/2001), I started to burn cd compilations on my parents’ pc, and this was the first one I decided to illustrate. As you can see I loved Pokemon, haha. Especially a specific manga called Pocket Monsters Special which was starting to get published here under the title Pokémon La Grande Aventure, and I would spend hours trying to painstakingly copy the characters.

Yes, this was drawn by hand. Wtf @ young me

All these songs right at the beginning are from 1998, and all of them together are gonna make most of the top of this list.

I’m saying all of this right now because I’ve got nothing to say about Yakalelo, which is simply a fun and super catchy summer song.

Moving on to another song which is also on that very old compilation I made as a kid more than 18 years ago and which, clearly, is still relevant to this day.

4 - Mysterious Times (Sash!)

US: Not on the list / FR: #79

A perfectly serviceable and adequate dance track which wouldn’t deserve much attention if it didn’t look so great in my ears. It has some rich cyan blues and vivid fuchsias and weird spiral-like patterns and ugh. Why does it look so great. It’s like seeing a random Ikea painting but with fantastic colors and you know it’s mass-produced and it isn’t worth getting excited about but you can’t stop looking at it. Sometimes I hate my brain.

3 - This Is How We Party (SOAP)

US: Not on the list / FR: #23

And yep, sure enough, that was the first track on that compilation I was talking about earlier. If I was still nine or ten this would be number one easily. It’s also quite possibly the last song which I thought sounded menacing and cool because I couldn’t understand the lyrics apart from the word “party”. I started to learn English the next year and oh boy, the number of songs in English which instantly became less cool even if I could only understand one word out of five... you don’t even know.

Still a great song, and the music video is half cringy half hilarious. I somehow never saw it at the time. Too bad.

2 - Frozen (Madonna)

US: #32 / FR: #12

That is quite possibly my favorite Madonna song right there, and it’s a very uncharacteristic song for her, so I don’t know what to think about that. I put it on several compilations and tapes around 2004, and I loved that hypnotic music video. A weird song in a weird year.

And that year, of course, has a weird, weird #1 for me.

Prepare yourselves.

1 - La Tribu de Dana (Manau)

US: Not on the list / FR: #3

This was a monstruous, incredibly huge hit song in my country.

If you live in any place where this song is virtually unknown and you clicked that link, boy do I wish I could see your face right now.

If you didn’t click, basically it’s a French rap song, sampling a traditional celtic melody played on a biniou (bagpipe), in which the singer is rapping about being a celtic warrior thrown into the horrors of war and being the only survivor of a battle, and then trying to rebuild his village and his life.

I swear I’m not making this up. I also swear this was an enormous hit to the point of being a game-changer here. If you’ve never heard it, I beg you to listen to it and give me your opinion afterwards. Here’s a translation of the lyrics.

I love it and no joke, I can sing it entirely from memory, and one time a guy on Discord asked me to sing it out of the blue on vocal to check if I was bullshitting or not and let’s just say he regretted that decision immediately.

Next up: possibly the most humiliating #1

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

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crossingfates · 4 years

Text

MEET THE MUSE!

Rules: Don’t reblog, repost. Tagging: @yall feel free to steal this its a very cool thing to do! Also i have no idea who hasn’t and has done it so Tagged by: @omniversentertwined ive been grabbed and thus here I am

( reply as muse talking )

► NAME ➭ “The name is Seeker! Though you’ve probably heard about me as the Grim Reaper. I still prefer Seeker” ► ARE YOU SINGLE? ➭ “ Nope! Happily married to the most beautiful of goddesses light of my life, Libra !” ► ARE YOU HAPPY? ➭ “ HECK YEAH I AM!!” ► ARE YOU ANGRY? ➭ “ I haven’t tried playing any hard game yet so I am as zen as I can be” ► ARE YOUR PARENTS STILL MARRIED? ➭ “ I’m sure they are, somewhere...”

⚡️ NINE FACTS! ► ‘BIRTH’ PLACE ➭ “Uhhh...oh shit you really can forget about stuff you don’t think about huh? I can at least guarantee y’all it was Earth.” ► HAIR COLOR ➭ “ Brown” ► EYE COLOR ➭ “ Fuchsia! Hard to notice cause of my glasses sometimes I’ll admit ” ► BIRTHDAY ➭ “ February 28th, I can never forget it because it is the perfect excuse to ask Libra for Birthday hang out. Also free kisses hell ye ” ► MOOD ➭ “ Chill, is that a mood? I’ll consider it a mood ” ► GENDER ➭ “In my best sponge bob impression...I...am a man” ► SUMMER OR WINTER ➭ “Winter, I prefer the cold plus there’s something almost nostalgic about it” ► MORNING OR AFTERNOON ➭ “Afternoon, watching the sunset is very soothing. Also I...am awful at waking up early”

⚡️ EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE! ► ARE YOU IN LOVE?➭ “ And I fall deeper in love every day I’m with her” ► DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT? ➭ “You can definitely feel attraction to someone at first sight no doubt about it, but love is something that develops over time you know? Most people say it happens first in a huge burst and then diminishes over time but I think it’s the opposite. You start liking someone, maybe just a part of them like their kindness or even the way they look at you. But as time goes on you find more and more stuff you love about them as you know them better. Love is a seed that can blossom into a beautiful flower if both parties care and tend to it or it can very much leave a sour after taste. Tldr, if you fell in love with someone at first sight then I have news for you because you got a big love storm coming.” ► WHO ENDED YOUR LAST RELATIONSHIP? ➭ “No one. Would you believe me if I told you Libra has been my only relationship? ” ► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN SOMEONE’S HEART? ➭ “I...don’t think I have? Or at least I hope not. ” ► ARE YOU AFRAID OF COMMITMENTS? ➭ “Nope!” ► HAVE YOU HUGGED SOMEONE WITHIN THE LAST WEEK?➭ “ Fun fact, hugging Libra can cure cancer, depression and bring world piece, believe me I am a hug scientist and I hug her whenever I can 10/10 Highly recommended. If you see a sad Libra offer her a hug as well. ” ► HAVE YOU EVER HAD A SECRET ADMIRER? ➭ “ Man if I do they really got the secret part going strong, tips of my hat to them. ” ► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN YOUR OWN HEART? ➭ “ ..I have, many times...and different me hearts. ”

⚡️SIX CHOICES! ► LOVE OR LUST ➭ “ Love ” ► LEMONADE OR ICED TEA ➭ “ When life gives you lemons...you make lemon iced tea ha! checkmate ” ► A FEW BEST FRIENDS OR MANY REGULAR FRIENDS ➭ “ Both are great in their own ways, and probably also depends how easy is for one to make friends. The friends I have I feel are all the best friends I’ve ever have and no doubt I can count them with my fingers, I would do anything for them. But also having many friends you can just hang out with and spend quality time enjoying stuff is great too!” ► WILD NIGHT OUT OR ROMANTIC NIGHT IN ➭ “ Romantic night in! ” ► DAY OR NIGHT ➭ “ Now, with my best batman impression, I am the night”

⚡️ FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS! ► BEEN CAUGHT SNEAKING OUT ➭ “ Never even tried, my house was very strict haha... ” ► FALLEN DOWN/UP THE STAIRS ➭ “ I wish I could fall up to ASCEND. But yes ” ► WANTED SOMETHING/SOMEONE SO BADLY IT HURT? ➭ “ haha I still do! ”

⚡️FIVE PREFERENCES! ► SMILE OR EYES ➭ “ I could stare at either of Libra’s forever, but I prefer the smile cause it means shes happy ” ► SHORTER OR TALLER ➭ “ Libra ” ► INTELLIGENCE OR ATTRACTION ➭ “ Libra, she’s both ” ► HOOK-UP OR RELATIONSHIP ➭ “ Relationship!”

⚡️ FAMILY! ► DO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY GET ALONG ➭ “ Ye ” ► WOULD YOU SAY YOU HAVE A “MESSED UP LIFE” ➭ “ It says a lot when I default to humor to cope with stuff haha...fuck ” ► HAVE YOU EVER RAN AWAY FROM HOME ➭ “ Not exactly, though I did leave to make sure a certain someone didn’t get lost on her way ” ► HAVE YOU EVER GOTTEN KICKED OUT ➭ “ Once, because of puns, during a friends night out ”

⚡️ FRIENDS! ► DO YOU SECRETLY HATE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS ➭ “ They aren’t my friend anymore but I do feel the burning hatred of a thousand suns towards them ” ► DO YOU CONSIDER ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS GOOD FRIENDS ➭ “ All of my current friends heck yeah, the best there is!” ► WHO IS YOUR BEST FRIEND ➭ “ Well, they are my sibling more than anything and though we do get into fights because of our jobs, I love them dearly. Also Angel, but you know same strain cause they’re dating my sibling so. Its fun ” ► WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU ➭ “ I think not even I know everything about me, Libra and Samael are very close to knowing all about me though, though I guess Samael doesn’t count cause we were technically the same person for awhile. ”

#;[OH THE THINGS THAT YOU DO/ IN THE NAME OF WHAT YOU LOVE] SEEKER #;long post #does this count as headcannons too?

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emperorsfoot · 4 years

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Dak in this chapter:

“I’m telling mom!”

...

Hordak stared at the painting.

He did not understand how it could be in two places at once.

He was sure he had passed this painting before. This was not the first time he thought this. So sure was he, in fact, that he scratched the wall with his talons last time he passed the other painting to mark the spot. This painting did not have any such scratches in the wall next to it. That could only mean one thing. Entrapta had two copies of the same painting, had hung them in two different parts of the Crypto Castle, and he was not where he thought he was.

Hordak was lost.

Standing there in the dimly lit corridor, Hordak glared at the painting as if it had personally offended him.

A depiction of mammal. It vaguely resembled a flerken, but with large and oversized eyes which Hordak imagined were meant to make it appear to be ‘cuter’ or more ‘adorable’. It was rendered in shades of fuchsias and violets, popular colors here in Dryl. If Lord Hode were standing here, analyzing the painting with him, the old clone would say the color choices implied that the artist was one native to this territory and not from another Princess’s Queendom. Or, perhaps, that the piece was a commission by the Princess and the painter used her preferred color pallet.

Hordak didn’t know. In all honesty he didn’t care. Hode was the one who fixated on art. To spite his mentor’s multiple attempts, Hordak never acquired the taste.

He just wanted to get to the lab to do some routine maintenance on his exo-suit.

Only, he couldn’t get to the lab because he was not in the part of the castle he thought he was in. Which meant he was not heading in the direction he thought he was going.

How did one even navigate the Crypto Castle?

Fingers curling into a fist, Hordak dealt a frustrated punch to the wall next to the frame of the painting. There was a pattern of spider-web cracks in the wall when he pulled his fist away.

“Feel better?”

Hordak turned at the sound of the voice. A voice like any of his cloned brothers, a voice like his own, but younger. Less mature. Higher in pitch and shallower in timbre. A child’s voice.

But the clone child was not standing behind him when he turned around.

Hordak looked up.

Hanging upside-down from an open vent in the ceiling was the speaker. Face identical to Hordak’s own. Or, rather, identical to how Hordak’s face must have looked when he was still growing in the tank. A square chin and round forehead. High cheekbones that aligned seamlessly with pointed ears. A vertical nasal cavity in place of a nose. But the cheeks were fuller, rounder than Hordak’s own. Filled out with what Baker called ‘baby fat’, although this creature was not a baby. The eyes were also a different color. They were still solid sclera without pupils and glowed with bioluminescentce. But where Hordak’s eyes were a ruby-red, a primary red, this child-creature’s eyes were more of a bright fuchsia –the same color as Entrapta’s eyes.

This creature was not a true clone. They were not an exact copy of Hordak. All of Hordak’s own attempts to clone a new body for himself failed.

This creature was created by Entrapta. She took the basic idea of ‘cloning a new body’ but went the extra step and analyzed the DNA before reproducing it. She cut out the damaged segments of the sequence, the parts of the code that caused Hordak’s ��defects’ and replaced them with coding from her own –healthy- DNA to fill in the holes. In short, instead of making a clone, Entrapta built a genetic hybrid of the both of them.

The hybrid was never meant to achieve sentience of its own. It was never even meant to be conscious before Hordak’s mind was transferred into it.

But Scorpia let them out of the cloning tank too soon. The body was not fully mature, still very much a child’s body, not an adult as was the original intention. And the moment they woke up, they began to learn. To form thoughts and opinions and an identity all their own. If Entrapta tried to place Hordak’s mind in the hybrid’s body now, it would not work. There wasn’t space for two people in the same head. The brain would suffer a traumatic stoke and the body would die –killing both Hordak and the young hybrid with it.

So, they were stuck.

Hordak, as he was. Still in his same ‘defective’ body that was slowly degenerating. Dak –short for Hordak Second of the Name- as they were, unsure of their place in the world, wanting to form connections with the people who’s genes formed them, but unsure how.

“How long have you been following me?” Hordak demanded of the hybrid.

“Not following.” The hybrid shook their head. They lowered themself down from the vent in the ceiling, slithering on long strands of prehensile hair. Another trait inherited from Entrapta’s side of the gene pool. It looked like Hordak’s hair in color and texture. It was blue and coarse, only growing out the head in a narrow mohawk down the center. But it was long and thick. As long as the hybrid was tall, and equally as strong and versatile as Entrapta’s twin-tails. “Looking for. You’re late for your check-up. Mother put me in charge of the maintenance of your tech-parts while she and Scorpia are in Brightmoon.”

Hordak glared down at the composite creature. Not a true clone, not a brother. But unsure what else to categorize them as. Scorpia called Dak his ‘child’. The remnant of Horde forces that remained in Dryl called them his ‘heir’. The hybrid referred to Entrapta as ‘Mother’ and she made no attempts to dissuade the creature from doing this. But… they did not call Hordak ‘father’. The Horde did not have ‘fathers’. The clones of the Imperial Horde –the real Horde- did not have ‘children’ either. They were all brothers.

But this creature was not a brother.

This creature was… unacceptable.

Horde Prime would view them as unacceptable.

Hordak was glad Scorpia released them from their tank early. Hordak did not want to return to his Brother in the body of this… mongrel.

“I do not require your assistance to perform routine maintenance on my own exo-suit.” He informed the child.

A squawk of disagreement was heard from the vent the hybrid just vacated and Imp flapped out, circling in the air between the two. He opened his mouth wide and repeated, ‘You’re late.’

Dak only smirked at the older Hordak. “Don’t need help with your armor, but you do need help.”

Hordak opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was an angry snarl. He loomed over the child, shoulders arched, fingers spread, talons extended, crimson teeth exposed. Had this been the Fright Zone, and Dak one of his Force Captains, Hordak was sure the younger would have found him utterly terrifying. They would have crumpled in abject horror and begged the Hoard Lord to be merciful.

But this was not the Fright Zone. This was Dryl, Entrapta’s home territory and sovereign Queendom. Hordak was not ruler here. Dak was not one of Hordak’s Force Captains, they were not an underling. They were half of Hordak’s own species. They also had wide shoulders, and sharp talons, and could make feral, animalistic sounds with their throat. They did not crumple in abject terror.

Dak just gave the older Hordak an unimpressed frown. “Does that make you feel better?”

It was all Hordak could do to sputter at the hybrid. He had been living in Dryl for several months now, he had been living with this creature for several months now, and he still hadn’t figured out how to… interact with them. Dak did not give the reactions Hordak was used to receiving from other beings. The hybrid was rather like Entrapta in this regard. But while Entrapta scoffing and brushing off his attempts at intimidation was endearing, this mongrel child was only infuriating.

“It probably didn’t make you feel better, did it.” Dak continued. They held up a datapad. After a moment’s examination of the readouts it displayed, Hordak realized it was statistics on himself. One of the previous upgrades Entrapta made to his armor after they arrived from the Crimson Wastes was a feature that transmitted bio-data from his exo-suit to Entrapta’s main computer in her lab, a computer that was synced to the datapad the mongrel held. “Increased heart rate, shallow breathing. Getting excited and shouting –or snarling- is not what you want to do before your armor has the chance to be serviced.”

Unbidden, the memory of himself yelling at Entrapta then immediately passing out flashed through his mind. But by the bloody spears of the All High Host! Hordak was not about to admit to this composite creature that they might have a point.

“If you have taken it upon yourself to guide me through this absurd labyrinth, then do so silently.” He commanded the child. “I do not desire a lecture from one who does not have either the experience nor the programming to know what they are talking about.”

Since the intention was to have a blank body for Hordak, Entrapta never gave Dak any kind of programing in the tank. When they emerged, the hybrid could not even feed or toilet themself. They were only one month older than the amount of time Hordak had lived in Dryl. Dak had not had the opportunity or time to have many life experiences.

They were young, and with that youth came inexperience.

Dak sighed. Shrugging with their hair as well as their shoulders. “Follow.”

The hybrid began walking without even making sure that Hordak was indeed following them. Imp fluttered down to perch in the young clone’s hair and chittered at him to hurry up, or else he would get left behind and lost again.

Bearing his teeth in frustration, Hordak glared at the tiny deamon. He and Imp had been together since they first arrived on Etheria. They were pulled through the portal together all those years ago. How dare he side with this new clone over him!

With nothing else to do, Hordak fell into step behind Dak, glaring daggers at Imp’s satisfied grin.

The rout the hybrid lead him on was winding and confusing. It was not the same sequence of corridors Hordak took to the lab the last time he was there. At every turn, he paused to scratch the wall with his talons, marking the path with arrows. This was not the first time he tried doing this, but –somehow- all his marks would disappear by the next time he tried to navigate his way to the lab. It was at the point now that Hordak was starting to wonder if the Crypto Castle’s rooms and corridors moved and changed.

But that was absurd. If the Crypto Castle did that, surely Entrapta would have warned him.

Either that, or there was a small army of bots that prowled the corridors buffing and repairing the walls, erasing his marks.

Hordak wasn’t sure which explanation was more likely. This was Entrapta’s home, after all.

Finally, Dak stopped in front of a door and punched a code into the key pad with their hair. “It’s nice that Mother gave me the access code so that I don’t have to keep breaking into the Locked Room anymore.”

‘Lab’ Imp corrected with a recording of Entrapta’s voice.

The door slid open.

Entrapta’s lab was a disorderly mess. Not that his own Sanctum back in the Fright Zone had been much better. But that had been his mess, then, later, their mess. This mess was her mess and… the mongrel’s mess.

There was a pile of First Ones crystal fragments strewn over one worktable. That would be Entrapta’s mess. Anything First Ones tech related was hers. Against a far wall of the lab, a partially constructed –or deconstructed- humanoid bot slumped. That would be the mongrel’s mess. They were still studying basic structures, gears and joints, pistons and belts, simple circuitry and basic functions.

Hordak did not have a mess in the lab. Hordak did not have any on-going projects. His only really significant project had been the portal. That was over and done with. Now he was focusing on his own body. When he returned to his Brother’s side, he would be expected to perform no differently than any other clone trooper. Warrior trained. Strong. Quick. Agile. Skilled. Fearsome. Capable.

To that end, Entrapta –or, at the moment, Dak- were giving his exo-suit regular tune-ups. Slowly increasing his strength, enhancing his agility, improving reaction times. Trying to return him to the level of physical ability he used to enjoy back when he was a young clone, before his defects presented themselves. Even after they presented but hadn’t advanced and spread quite so much would be acceptable. Hordak performed admirably for many years after the physical limitations of his defects made themselves known. Of course, he had Hode’s help in that. Hordak never did learn why his mentor didn’t just kill him outright when the older man learned of his failings. Hode didn’t just not-kill him, Hode helped him conceal his condition.

Dak set the datapad with Hordak’s pulse and respiratory statistics down on a consol. The screen faired to life and the data that was on the small pad was now projected onto the larger monitor.

If it were Entrapta, she would have whisked him off his feet by now. Used her hair to lift, carry, and position him in a space in the lab where she could do non-invasive scans of his body and the armor, before setting her machines to dismantle it and put it back together. Dak, was not Entrapta, however. They did not feel the same level of ease with Hordak that allowed Entrapta to utterly disregard the concept of ‘personal space’, and Hordak did not trust the hybrid clone enough to allow them to manhandle him around the lab.

Perching on their hair, turned at a bit of an angle so they could see both the monitor and Hordak at the same time, Dak pointed to an empty space. “Stand there.”

Bearing his teeth again, Hordak did not move. “You do not command me, Mongrel.”

The hybrid only frowned. They were probably getting used to people in Dryl doing what they said. As far as any citizen or resident of Dryl understood, Hordak Second of the Name was Princess Entrapta’s child and heir. The kitchen staff treated Dak as if they were a young Princess being groomed to take over their mother’s Queendom. The occupying Horde forces that remained in Dryl differed to Dak as if they were Hordak’s heir and future Lord of the Horde (although there was now a division between the Fright Zone Etherian Hoard, and the Dryl Etherian Hoard, but that was not relevant at the moment). Fact of the matter, people in the Crypto Castle, or around the territory obeyed the hybrid as they would any other future monarch.

But they were not Hordak’s monarch. They were not Hordak’s commanding officer. They weren’t even a proper brother.

There was a beat of a pause as the two clones glared at each other.

If the roles were reversed and it was Dak refusing to follow an order that Hordak gave, the latter would be looming over the former. Snarling with fangs out. Trying to intimidate the other into compliance.

But Dak did not seem to have inherited Hordak’s temper. Instead, they held the older one’s eyes for a moment, luminous fuchsia meeting glowing ruby, before pressing a button on the consol. The word ‘Connecting…’ scrolled across the screen and Hordak felt something akin to apprehension bubble in his stomach.

“I will call Mother in Brightmoon and explain to her that your armor will not get its scheduled service.” Dak announced.

Before Hordak had the opportunity to object, or to insist that he could service his own exo-suit, the call connected and the screen filled with the image of Entrapta’s face.

She was holding something that looked suspiciously like half a casing of an emitter for a particle beam in her hair. Face smeared with grease. Shirt sporting new stains. But her mask was up and she looked enthusiastic. “Oh? Hey, guys! You need something?”

Before either of them could answer, she was distracted by someone off screen.

“Wait? No, no.” The frame tilted as she turned to whomever was off screen. She must be holding the communications pad in her hair. “It’s not gonna fire a laser. The laser is only for targeting. It’s a particle beam, but particle beams are invisible, so the laser is so you know what you’re shooting at. You see,-“ she then launched into an explanation of how particle beams worked, what the ‘particles’ were, why the beam was invisible to the naked eye, and speaking of eyes you shouldn’t look directly into lasers either, here’s why on that too. It was only after these info-dumps were completed that she remembered she was still on a call from home. “Something come back wrong with Hordak’s exo-suit? Maybe I can trouble shoot it from here. Describe the malfunction.”

“Haven’t started yet.” Dak announced.

Entrapta frowned. “Regular maintenance is not something that should be put off.”

The hybrid flashed one more look back at Hordak before turning back to their ‘Mother’ on the screen. Dak opened their mouth to tattle tale that Hordak was not cooperating.

But the older one cut them off before any tattles could be told. “Your clone is perfectly capable, Entrapta.” Hordak announced. The mongrel was certainly ‘competent’ enough to be ‘capable’. “They merely wished to notify you that everything is proceeding as per your instruction and there is nothing to worry about.”

“Oh. Okay.” Entrapta hadn’t been worried. There was an awkward pause in which she just blinked at the screen as if not sure what was supposed to happen now. Social convention and ‘phone etiquette’ were both on the list of ‘Thing Entrapta Does not Understand and Is Not Good At’. “So… How was your day…?”

“We do not have to exchange pleasantries if you do not wish to.” Hordak informed her.

“Great!” Entrapta ended the call without any goodbyes.

The main monitor screen went blank for a moment before Hordak’s bio-stat readouts reappeared.

Hordak fixed the hybrid with an angry glare. “It was not necessary to call her.”

Dak met his angry glare with a mocking smirk. “But I am just a mongrel that cannot command you.”

From somewhere above them, Imp laughed. Although, it was a little unclear just what –or whom- he was laughing at. The little deamon seemed to find the antics of the two clones very, very amusing.

“Now, stand there.” Dak pointed.

This time, Hordak complied. He crossed the space to where the mongrel indicated. In front of the main monitor array, but slightly to the side. Bellow a medical array that was looted from the First Ones ship in the Crimson Waste. It was the same highly advanced medical equipment that saved his life so many months ago after a fight with Catra that left him bleeding out with his jugular cut open.

Hordak would have died –in fact, he did die. Hordak was ‘mostly dead’ for several minutes. Scorpia and the rebels that accompanied Entrapta were ready to leave him as he was. Dead.

But Entrapta insisted that ‘mostly dead’ meant still partly alive. She insisted in saving his life.

And with the help of the highly advanced First Ones tech, she did save his life!

The First Ones tech knitting synthetic tissues into his wounds to repair the damage his defects prevented his body from doing on its own. Then grafting equally synthetic skin over the repaired tissues to close the wounds.

The artificial tissues and skin left him with very striking scars. Bright violet. Almost the same color as the First Ones crystal at his throat. Four vertical lines slicing down his face from forehead to chin where Catra had scratched him in their fight. It was only by the grace of the Host that she hadn’t gotten his eye! Horizontal slashes across the side of his neck where she had opened his jugular, the wound that had killed him. All of them an inorganic looking shade of bright violet that made a bold contrast compared to the paleness of his face, or the dark blue-gray of his throat.

Hordak did not enjoy looking in the mirror anymore. When he did return home, Horde Prime would see the scars first and his Little Brother second. That wasn’t just a fear, if was something Hordak knew in his bones.

Yet, he didn’t consider not returning back to Prime’s side. Not even for a moment.

#entrapdak #hordak #dak #oc #clone baby au #entrapta #dryl #crypto castle #fan fiction #ao3 #RenkonNairu

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otomememento · 5 years

Text

Cradle OC - Viola Garcia

Cradlesona idea credit goes to @lovingsiriusoswald (Whether this is exactly a Cradlesona or not depends by individual definition.)

Image credit goes to: https://picrew.me/image_maker/43383

Basic Information:

Name: Viola Garcia Gender: Female Birthday: ?? Age: 21 Height: 5’1” Hair Color: Dark, Muted Purple Eye Color R/L: Fuchsia/Bright Green Occupation: Seamstress Affiliation: Central Quarter, Dress Shop Alignment: Neutral Good

Extended Information:

Personality: Viola is soft spoken, gentle, and a little on the shy side. Not knowing who she truly is in the world has made her a bit wary of other people, since she’s never sure that she really deserves anything. There’s also the hurt latent in being abandoned, though she has no complaints about how she was raised or who raised her. She’s also very aware that her life could have been made much worse if she had been raised by someone else, and so she’s very loyal to her adoptive family, and very grateful. Viola is a hard worker, and is very grateful to her boss for training and employing her, especially since his shop is so well frequented by the Red Army members, including Jonah, who she has a secret crush on. She loves being creative, and she makes a lot of stuffed toys and other objects in her spare time. Most of these she gives away, but some of them she sells during market days or festivals.

History: Viola isn’t aware of where she came from. The only thing she really knows is that she was abandoned as a baby on the steps of the Civic Center, where Blanc found her and sought out a good home for her to go to. Since Blanc had a good heart, he worked rather tirelessly to find a good fit for the little girl, who had oddly colored eyes from birth: one was a bright fuchsia, the other was a brilliant green. The dual colored eyes were a rare thing, and many people wouldn’t necessarily be kind to a child who was marked as different. But eventually he found a good couple, who had been unable to bear children, and handed the baby girl over. She was named Viola because of her purple hair. Blanc watched Viola from a far, just to make sure the child was safe and happy; because he had found her, he felt oddly protective towards her.

The couple, happy to have this darling baby girl, were very good to Viola, without spoiling her. They weren’t wealthy, or noble, but they were well off. Her father was a shoemaker, and her mother a housekeeper. From a young age, it was obvious she had very good eyesight, and often saw details that her parents missed. She was very invested in cleaning and making sure the house was neat and tidy, working hard to help her mother anyway she could. Alas, she wasn’t very good at baking or cooking, but she tried her best. She was actually much more interested in her father’s work, and from an early age she would practice stitching seams like her father did when he made shoes. But shoes were fairly rough and tough, so when Viola was old enough, he apprenticed her out to a well known tailor.

Viola worked for the tailor for some time before she was scooped up by an even more prominent seamstress, a woman who worked for the top clothing shop in the Central Quarter. It had served many noble families for a long time, including the Clemence family. Although she never spoke to Jonah, or Luka, directly, Viola had seen them many times when they had gone in. After a while she never saw Luka again, but Jonah continued to go there. Her new boss was very strict, but she was well taught by the seamstresses employed there, and she worked very hard. Her attention to detail was highly cultivated by them, and she became known for having such a fine, even stitch. She also had a very good eye for color and fitting, and was trusted for many difficult tasks despite her age. However, they very carefully didn’t praise her too much, not wanting her to get a big head, but made sure they praised her enough that she would keep working hard and not give up.

As Viola got older, she started to develop a crush on Jonah, but she didn’t tell anyone about it. She knew that he was way out of her league, being the heir to the position of Queen of Hearts, while she was just a seamstress. Still, whenever she heard his voice at the door of the shop, her little heart would flutter madly. Even though he was arrogant and domineering personality wise, his manners were still very genteel, and no one could fault his propriety. It was just as well that he never talked to the seamstresses directly, or she might have embarrassed herself. However, Jonah was so used to women being smitten by him, he likely wouldn’t have paid it much attention. Viola knew that her crush was hopeless, but she still held onto it like a treasure.

Viola made good wages at her job, but she wasn’t a very ostentatious person. Most of her money went to two things: her family and her hobby. In her spare time, Viola still sewed, but it was her own little creations. She liked to make stuffed objects, like animals or cushions. She also enjoyed making doll clothes, which she would often give out to little girls that came to the shop, or kids that she saw playing outside. She also asked her boss for any scraps of cloth that were too small to be used, which he agreed to easily since it cost him nothing and made one of his best seamstresses happy. Although she wasn’t the top of her game, she was improving so steadily that he was sure that she would outshine the others in the matter of a few years.

What Viola didn’t know, however, was that her talent was actually the unintentional legacy of her birth father. Her real parents were a Disciple of the Magic Tower and his wife. Viola’s birth mother knew nothing of the dark secret behind her husband’s work. The sheer amount of magical energies that he was exposed to affected him, though on the outside this wasn’t apparent. Around the time that Viola was conceived, her father had brought home some unstable crystals that he was keeping as part of a project. He was away for a work assignment when his wife went into labor. When the baby was born with the odd colored eyes, her mother panicked. Believing her husband would be angry, she dropped the baby off somewhere and told her husband that the child had died after an hour. Viola’s eyes are magically enhanced, although she just attributes it to a talent.

#cradlesona #ikemen revolution #ikerev oc

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monstrosibee · 5 years

Text

@blood-shepherd OKAY here it is, i went in to edit and i wrote an extra 600 words accidentally

"She's so...squishy." The organic shifted in his hands, her soft fabric outfit catching on one of his joints and causing every cable in Bumblebee's frame to pull tight as a drum. It unhooked easily as the purple skinned baby rolled against his chassis panel to curl into the heat pumping out of his fans. With a delicate touch, he adjusted the clothing out of its uncomfortable twist. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised about the purple though, because..."

"It's a good color!" Misfire finished for him, lounging on the couch with a glass of Bumblebee's most expensive spiced energon in his hand - perfect for colder mornings, but without the engex as he knew how to be a Responsible Babysitter. "Not as good as fuchsia or magenta, but still pretty good."

Bumblebee was not used to this many people in his little apartment in Iacon, and even when there were that many people, it was mini-bots; Aileron and Rattrap and a pair of Divisiunians named Weld and Rotor. Even the smallest one was at least as tall as Starscream, and there were six of them. Grimlock on his own took up the entire of the space in front of the TV, in alt mode and curled up to be more comfortable on the floor.

The yellow bot gently hefted the baby in his single hand, shifting in his position against the kitchen counter that faced out towards the media suite, and laid a palm on her stomach, feeling how warm and soft she was in comparison. "I mean, I guess. Not as good as yellow, but it's pretty nice. The Decepticon symbol's a bit heavy handed though, don't you think?"

Krok shrugged where he had his legs and stabilizers thrust over Spinister's lap on the floor between the couch and Grimlock. He had energon as well, but Bee thought he could see the heavy glass of an engex flask tucked beside his hip. "Wasn't our decision. Her father thought it was clever. I think it's a bit tacky to be honest, but hey, it's not my face."

Connie yawned wide, showing her toothless gums like a newborn kitten, and Bee seized up again, afraid of waking her. Misfire caught his expression and slid off the couch, bouncing gracefully over where Crankcase had fallen into recharge on the floor taking selfies for his boyfriend. "Bee-buddy, no reason to be so tense! It's just a baby, they don't bite." He popped his arms up under the baby and took her, cradling her like an expert nurse. "Your bud Roddy said you were a pro with the little organic protoforms. Thought that's why he turned us away at the door; figured you'd be psyched to see her."

Rodimus had probably turned them away from the Lost Light because the last time Misfire had boarded, he'd taken the newly reconstructed Rod Pod on a joyride and totaled it again. Bee didn't say that though, choosing instead to lean over Connie cradled in Misfire's arms, tucked in her little outfit that looked oddly like some kind of many legged Earth creature. "No, I love kids...it just would have been nice if he had called before five strange Decepticons and Grimlock showed up on my porch with an abnormally large purple baby. War's over, but I'm still half the size of the average Cybertronian and a little paranoid."

"Your personal frequency changed." Grimlock's voice was deep enough to nearly shake the floor where he lay. His mouth didn't move as he spoke, but Bee could see his optics now focused on the baby and him instead of the TV. "Whatever they did to bring you back, your whole body's new. Not the same frequency. Had a couple bots try to call, and all of them got an empty signal back."

Frowning, Bee accepted the baby back from Misfire, who was eyeing Crankcase's abandoned energon. "I'll have to give out my new frequency...I forgot that no one on the Lost Light has heard from me since I woke up."

The hand off must have been too rough, because just then Connie whined, then burst into tears. Crankcase woke as well, flailing his arms in his usual expressionless surprise and managing to knock Misfire off balance and to the floor. Grimlock watched Bee dodge out of the way with a slightly amused expression, rumbling softly as the yellow mini-bot jumped to the side and out of the way of flailing jet wings and angry 'Con limbs.

The baby wailed again in Bee's arms, and he nearly jumped out of his kibble. Her little face scrunched and wrinkled in displeasure, her fingers grabbing out in the air for something. Unsure of what else to do, he carefully slid the end of his index digit into her tight little grasp, but it only quieted her for a second. Misfire had been effectively distracted by Crankcase, and they tussled on the floor, the former trying to grab the latter by his guns. The other Scavengers looked on in mild interest, as though the two thrashing bots on his floor weren't knock stuff over and making Connie cry even more.

Wheeljack had been somewhat pressed for time when he put all of Bumblebee's parts together. The body had been grown from sentio metallico into his shape, like a forged bot, but because of the hurried nature of the construction and the...strange way the spark was lit, it had some interesting idiosyncrasies, almost like some of the early experimental MTOs he had known during the war.

Some of them made his life a little more difficult - his knee injury had apparently become spark printed, so even now he walked with a cane on his worst days - but some were just strange. His optics would flicker different colors if he drank certain kinds of energon, loud noises could make his cooling fans start regardless of temperature, and...

As his engine kicked in from the stress of having a crying child in his arms and the two mechs fighting on his floor, a high pitched droning buzz filled the air. It vibrated hard enough to shake his plating and rattle his denta, and he sighed and bit down so they wouldn't shake out of his head; Wheeljack had told him there was no way to fix it, since it was caused by the irregular pulses of his spark, but Primus if it didn't make him want to tear his engine out some days.

Connie, on the other hand, seemed quite pleased. Her crying slowly eased as Bee's chassis and arms vibrated against her until it went silent, and she stared up at him with eyes a red so bright they were like tiny pools of nucleon. He paused, looking down at her in surprise, then smiled with his denta still clenched and cooed, "You like that? Little squishy 'Con likes the buzzy Bee?"

Her giggle tinkled like Praxian crystal chimes, high and soft and sweet. Being so much bigger than her human base, her voice was different and lower, but it didn't have that echoing tinny quality to it that Bee had never noticed Cybertronians did until he traveled off world and spoke to organics. Amusement pulled her face into a different set of creases and wrinkles, crumpling her nose and squinting and squeezing tighter on his digit.

"Slagging Pits!" Misfire was suddenly hovering over Bee's shoulder, watching Connie grin toothlessly at the mini-bot's boxy face. Crankcase was still on the ground, wiping spilled energon off his legs. "Her pops said she'd been laughing, but I thought he was lying cause he wanted to make it look like she was some super baby! Damn, now I owe that slagger Scorponok fifty shanix. I'm never babysitting for him and that Cybertronian orange Julius ever again, they just take my money."

Bee laughed, still staring down in sudden spark shuddering adoration at the baby in his arms. "I thought you said you didn't know much about organics? For all you know, she should be up and walking already." Then the name the Scavenger had dropped processed, and pried his gaze off the baby to look up at Misfire. "Did you say Scorponok?'

He nodded nonchalantly, waving a digit at the baby. "Yeah, him n' his little Autobot conjunx cooked her up in a test tube." He paused, biting his lip. "Well, I guess he's not little, he's actually only a little shorter than me but EVERYONE looks short next to Scorponok of 'Built like a damn combiner"..."

Misfire chattered on as Bee felt his processes slowly detach from his physical brain module. His vision was unfocused as he looked back down at Connie, gummy mouth still clamped around his digit. In that moment, she felt smaller and even more delicate than before, and his engine buzz hitched with a touch of nerves.

"Well, no one will ever mess with you," he muttered into his arms, loosening his grip so she could lay more comfortably. "But damn if that isn’t a big legacy to live up to.”

#maccadam #transformers #tf bumblebee #tf connie

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