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sequinsmile-x · 1 month

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The Games We Play - Chapter 2

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her.

She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death.

A Hunger Games AU

-x-

Hi friends,

Thanks so much for the reaction to chapter 1 <3

AU's in general are always nerve wracking, but this one feels even more so because I am aware it's a little bit of an out-there idea. I really appreciate the support on this unhinged little fic, and I really hope you like this chapter.

Please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 4.6k

A full list of warnings can be found on the series master list

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She seeks him out on the train.

He’d left the dining carriage not long after they left the district, and at first, she leaves him to it, giving him the space she remembers needing herself. It was strange to leave home, the only place you’d ever been, and not know if you’d be coming alive or in a body bag. Not everyone even got that, the brutality that the tributes sometimes showed each other beyond imagination, as if the Capitol had truly won in convincing them all that they were each other's enemies. Their gaze and anger turned inwards, instead of all of them looking out to see who was using them like chess pieces.

She goes looking for him for a couple of hours, Kate’s crying eventually getting to her, too many memories of other tributes who hadn’t come home haunting her. The ghosts of children whose faces she’d never forget in every reflective surface she walked past.

She finds him at the back of the train looking out of the large window, scenery they’d otherwise never get to see speeding past them, hints of life and freedom in the birds that flew between the trees. She clears her throat as she steps into the carriage and he looks up at her, his smile tight as their eyes meet.

“Want me to leave you alone?” She asks, not stepping any closer to him and he shakes his head.

“No,” he replies, “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

She nods and walks towards him, revealing that she has two glasses of scotch behind her back, smiling wryly as she tries to hand him one, “Here, I brought you this.”

He frowns, the smell from the glass familiar, the scent of alcohol something he thinks he might always associate with his father, “We’re not ol-”

“We’re old enough to die for a TV show,” she says, pressing the drink into his hand before she sits next to him, “I think we’re old enough to have a drink.”

He pauses for a moment and considers arguing with her. He thinks about putting the drink down, ignoring that she’d brought it to him, but he doesn’t. There was something about it pulling him in, the chance to break the rules, to do something he’d never done before, tempting as he thinks about the fact his days are numbered. He nods and takes a sip, something simmering in his gut when she smiles widely at him.

He’d never been able to say no to her anyway.

She laughs at him when he grimaces at the taste, at the burn in the back of his throat, and for a moment they are children again, playing in her mother’s house with no regard for anything other than the fun they were having. The train jolts and pulls them out of it, bringing them back to the harsh reality they were in.

“Can I ask you something?” She asks, and he nods in response, “What happened with you and Haley?”

He smiles sadly, scratching the back of his head as he thinks of his ex-girlfriend, the woman he thought he’d one day marry, “We talked about the future. She wanted kids. I don’t,” he sighs and shakes his head, “I can’t imagine bringing a child into this world and then potentially sending them into this.”

Emily nods even though he’s not looking at her, blowing out a steady breath, “I know what you mean. Especially now I’m a victor.”

He looks up at her, his eyebrows knitting together with curiosity. He’s so close she could reach out and touch the line it creates between his eyebrows, press her thumb into the ravine that she’s sure would get so much deeper as he got older.

If he ever got older.

“Why?”

She smiles sadly, “The kid of a victor would almost be guaranteed to go in the games,” she says her lips pressed together as she shrugs, “It makes good TV. It would show even the strongest of us aren’t protected.”

There’s a pause, and it stretches out between them. Tied together with threads of their separate histories, tattered edges knotting together to create a morbid tapestry.

“What about you and that guy from District One?” He asks, breaking the silence, his voice soft, as if he was afraid to ask.

She smiles wryly, “Ian?” She says and he nods, making her chuckle, “Don’t believe everything you read, Aaron. He’s just a guy who won’t take no for an answer.”

He isn’t sure what to say to that, how to feel about the wave of protectiveness that washes over him, so he clenches his teeth and decides to move the conversation on.

“Where’s Kate?” He asks, looking at the amber liquid in his glass before he takes another sip, this one going down easier than the first.

“Dave’s comforting her,” she replies, looking out the window, her gaze fixed on the trees, “She’s upset,” she says, even though it’s obvious. She looks at him and takes a moment to study him as he continues to look at his drink. He was handsome, he always had been, but the boyishness that had once been in his features had faded away. Sharp features had replaced once rounder ones as if they’d cut through from underneath, pushing away innocence and childhood with the harsh realities of life. He looks up at her and she clears her throat, pushing down the embarrassment that she feels at being caught staring at him, “What you did was really brave.”

He laughs wryly and nods, blowing out a slow breath before he finishes his drink. It was objectively brave, he knew that, if he’d seen anyone else do it he’d think the same thing, but he didn’t feel brave. He couldn’t have let his brother do this, couldn’t let him march towards certain death when he could help.

He wasn’t sure it counted as bravery when it was his only option.

“He’s my brother,” he says simply, “I only did what was right,” he says as he puts down his empty glass. He can see her start to argue with him, the pinch between her brows something he’d seen countless times before, so he cuts her off before she can, “So, how does this work? Do you and Dave train us both? Do we have a mentor each?”

She sighs at the change of subject but lets it slide, well aware that he needed to deal with this in the way he needed to, that her feelings weren’t important in any of this, “One each - I’ll be working with you, Dave will be with Kate.”

He frowns, “I saw you with Tara last year,” he says, feeling momentarily regretful when she flinches for a second, a brief reaction she can’t control at the mention of the female tribute from the year before. She’d almost made it, survived until the final three, and then was killed by a career tribute from District One, “Don’t you usually work with the female tribute?”

She nods, pressing her lips together to gather herself, “Yes but, because we’re friends Dave suggested I work with you,” she says, the lie slipping past her lips easily.

She used to hate lying, used to think the truth was always the better option no matter what, but one thing she’d learnt since leaving the arena was that lying was the way to keep everyone she cared about safe. She’d asked Dave if she could work with Aaron and had ignored his concern. Selfishly, she wanted to spend as much time with Aaron as she could, so if she did lose him, if she had to watch him die helplessly and keep a straight face, she would be able to tell herself that she’d done her very best to help him.

He chuckles wryly, “Friends? Em, we’ve barely spoken since I started to date…” he drifts off and shakes his head, cut off by the look of hurt that flashes across her face, guilt sparking in his gut, and the thought of his ex-girlfriend, her name turning to ash on his tongue at the thought of how she must be feeling about all of this. He sighs, “Look, that wasn’t fair. I’m-”

“No,” she says, tucking her loose hair behind her ear, “You’re right. I haven’t…” she sighs and a humourless laugh escapes her, “It’s not been an easy few years.”

The guilt in his belly catches fire, spreading through his blood as he reaches out and places his hand on her arm. It’s only when he does it that he realises it’s been years since he’d touched her, and he feels like an addict, the desire to never let go forcing him to do just that, his hand springing back like he’d been burned.

“I am sorry, Em,” he says, smiling tightly at her, “I can’t imagine how you’ve felt since you came back.”

She looks down at her arm where he touched her, his warmth lingering where his palm had been. She knows she’ll inspect her skin later, that she’ll check to see if he’d left a mark behind, if he’d somehow branded her with a simple touch because she can almost feel it burn. She looks up at him and smiles, and she shrugs half-heartedly.

“Well, in a few weeks when we’re back on this train, you’ll know.”

It’s false optimism neither of them buy into, but he can’t help but smile back at her, “Yeah,” he replies, “I will.”

___

She’s running.

Her lugs hurt, her feet her almost numb with pain, a dampness in her shoes she knows is blood and not water, but she can’t stop running.

Her life depends on it.

“You can run, but you can’t hide pretty. The things I’ll do to you when I catch you.”

She’s only forced further forward by Karl’s words, by the foul implication dripping from them. She’d seen what he’d done to some of the other girls, and had seen the joy he’d derived from it. Emily wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of killing her, she was going to outlive him or she was going out on her own terms.

She curses as she realises she’s run into a dead end, her feet just touching the cliff edge as she comes to a stop. She can hear him gaining on her, his thundering footsteps getting louder, and she closes her eyes, giving herself a second, one final moment of peace, but when she opens her eyes she sees a shimmer in the sky. It’s almost discernible from the blue of the fake sky in above her but she sees it. She chuckles as she remembers what Dave had told her about the forcefield, about the edge of the arena, and she pulls her knife out of her pocket. She looks over her shoulder and sees that Karl is right behind her, a smirk on his face as if he had won already. She looks straight ahead and she throws the knife, immediately ducking as it hits the forcefield and bounces back. She’s knocked to the ground by the force of the soundwaves that echo around her, her hand automatically covering her ears as she tries to protect them.

Everything goes eerily silent, everything overwhelmingly quiet after so much nose, and her hands shake as she removes them from her ears. Her arms are unsteady as she pushes herself up off the ground. She walks over to where Karl is lying, the same smirk still painted on his face, a grim flash burn of the last moment of his life, and her knife planted firmly in the centre of his chest.

She jumps when the canon goes off, half convinced until that moment she’d lost her hearing, and she looks up at the sky, Karl’s face briefly emblazoned on it, before the disembodied voice of the game maker fills the arena.

“Ladies and Gentleman, the winner of this year's Hunger Games - Emily Prentiss.”

___

Aaron was exhausted.

No matter how much training they did, how much preparation Emily had put him through the last few days, he couldn’t sleep. It alluded him, forever out of reach as he slept in a bedroom bigger than his childhood home.

He’s walking around the apartment they’d been assigned when he hears her scream, the sound of it pulling him towards her room immediately. When he walks in she’s wrapped up in the bed sheets, twisting in the bed as if she’s trying to escape from something he can’t see. He runs over and sits on the edge of Emily’s bed, placing his hand on her sheet-covered knee and squeezing as he says her name.

“Em,” he says, quietly at first, not wanting to startle her, “Em, you need to wake up,” he says, shifting closer, his hand skating up her side as it lands on her shoulder. He turns her towards him and the look on her face, the devastation she couldn’t escape even in her sleep, makes him ache, “Sweetheart, please,” he says, the nickname slipping out of nowhere as he begs her to come back to him, “Wake up.”

She sits up so fast that their foreheads would have collided if he hadn’t moved, a gasp loud enough to shake the walls escaping her as she looks at him, her eyes wide. She tries to shift away, as if she doesn’t recognise him, still half asleep as she tries to shake the rest of the nightmare off.

“Emily, it’s me. It’s Aaron.”

She breathes heavily, her chest rapidly moving up and down as she frowns at him, recognition finally seeping into her eyes, “Aaron?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling encouragingly as he rests his hand on her shoulder again, grateful when she doesn’t flinch, “It’s me. I was walking past and I heard you.”

She frowns, “Heard me what?”

He presses his lips together briefly as he weighs up his options, but he knows she needs the truth, “I heard you scream.”

“Oh,” she says, clearing her throat, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he says, smiling softly at her. His gaze drifts to his hand on her shoulder and he lets it drop to the mattress, “Were you dreaming about the games?”

She nods, her hand pressed against her chest as her heart still hammers at her rib cage, the beat of it so hard she thinks her ribs might crack, that the places the Capitol doctors had put her back together would slowly unravel.

“Yeah,” she says, her nerves too shot from the nightmare to deny it, “It’s always the same moment.”

He’d watched her games, and had felt relief when she’d won. It was the only one he remembers all the details of, the names of the other tributes forever burned into his memory.

They were people he’d prayed would die so the girl he loved would win.

“What moment?” He asks without thinking, his eyes going wide as he realises what he’s said, “You don’t have to-”

“When I won,” she says, cutting over him, feeling a strange sense of relief in finally saying this to someone. She was under no illusion that her mother hadn’t heard her screams. Elizabeth made her coffee on the mornings after the worst nights, or sent for her favourite bread from the bakery. A silent apology that would have to do, because Emily knew if her mother asked about it, if she acknowledged what her daughter had gone through, the house of cards they’d built around themselves stuck together with half-truths and platitudes would come crumbling down, “It’s always the moment when I won.”

He nods, “The knife and the forcefield,” he says, “I didn’t know what you were doing at first.”

She hums sadly, shaking her head she repeats the words she’d heard again and again anytime she saw footage of any of the games - hers included.

“The moment a tribute becomes a Victor,” she says, doing an impersonation of Penelope that gets a smile out of him that she matches, “Not that there are any Victors,” she says, her smile fading, “Just survivors.”

Her words are heavy in the air, laying like a cloying blanket over them, an acknowledgement that even if he won that he’d never be free trapping them in place. He eventually clears his throat and starts to stand up.

“Well, I should go back-”

“Please stay,” she says, reaching out and grabbing his wrist before she can stop herself, her basic instinct to keep him close winning out over everything else, “I…please stay.”

He doesn’t have to think about it, he simply nods and climbs into bed next to her, careful to make sure he’s on the other side of the mattress from her, their bodies not touching as they lay next to each other. For a moment it’s awkward but he turns his head to look at her, a half smile on his face as her eyes meet his.

“I think this bed is bigger than my bedroom at home.”

She chuckles and rests her head back on her pillow, “I will give the Capitol one thing,” she says, blowing out a shaky breath, “They sure know how to make a mattress.”

When they wake up in the morning they are tangled together on his side of the bed, wrapped up like vines that had grown side by side, destined to become indistinguishable from one another.

___

“He needs to smile more.”

Emily doesn’t look at Dave, doesn’t tear her eyes from the screen as she slaps his chest with one hand, the other by her mouth as she bites her cuticles, “He’s doing fine.”

“He’s lucky he has the whole volunteering for his brother thing on his side,” Dave says as he steps closer to the TV, Aaron’s one-on-one interview with Jason Gideon, the host of the games, happening live in front of them, “Let’s be honest, not a lot of star power on that screen right now.”

“Shut up Dave,” she says, finally turning from the screen and looking at him, “He’s doing his best. I didn’t do great either.”

He nods thoughtfully, “True. I think that was the first time they’d ever had to censor a 15-year-old on the show before.”

She chuckles and looks back at the screen, blowing out a slow breath as she looks at the other tributes sitting behind Aaron as he speaks to Gideon, her gaze fixed on one of them in particular, “I don’t like the look of him.”

Dave frowns as he leans in and gets a closer look, “Oh, that intense guy from four? What was his name…”

“George Foyet,” she says, turning to look at him, “He reminds me of Karl. I think he’ll get a kick out of it all.”

“He does have that look about him,” Dave replies, watching her carefully, concern washing over him. She was clearly close to Aaron, or had been at some point, and he was worried she was setting herself up to get hurt. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Aaron’s room had been untouched for days and that Emily wasn’t screaming in the middle of the night anymore. “Bella, are you-”

“Shh,” she says, tuning back into what was being said, aware that the conversation was wrapping up.

“So, do you have a special lady waiting back home?” Gideon asks and Aaron looks down at his hands before he looks at the camera and he shakes his head.

“No, I used to but…” he trails off and shakes his head, “We broke up.”

“That’s a shame,” Gideon replies, leaning forward in his chair towards Aaron, “There must be someone else though, someone else you’ve had your eye on.”

Aaron sighs and Emily swears she can see his thought process, can see him physically weighing up the pros and cons of what he was about to say, “Well, there is someone. I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember” he says, his smile tight, “But it won’t ever work.”

“Why not?”

Aaron looks down the camera, an intensity in his eyes that, for a moment, makes Emily feel like he’s talking directly to her, “Because I came here with her.”

She feels her breath catch in her chest as she flicks her gaze to where Kate is sitting on the stage, any vague hope she’d felt the last few days, waking up in his arms even when they fell asleep on separate parts of the bed, gone in an instant.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Dave says, shaking his head, “Maybe he does have it in him.”

“Yeah,” Emily says, swallowing thickly, “Maybe he does.”

___

She avoids him after the interviews, purposely changing the habits she’d formed in the time they’d been in the Capitol, and it takes him a while to find her using the tactics she’d taught him on how to track someone against her.

He finds her on the roof of the building, her elbows resting on the edge as she looks out over the city. The fireworks going off in the distance make him feel sick, the celebratory feeling in the air more akin to that of a festival rather than marking the start of the death match between children that would begin in the morning.

“Emily?”

She turns to look at him, her smile fake, the one she always wore in front of her mother or the cameras, as their eyes meet, “Aaron, what are you doing up here?”

“Looking for you,” he replies, walking over to join her, “You disappeared.”

“I don’t have the privilege of being able to disappear,” she says, her grip on the wall in front of her tightening as the smell of him washes over her. He smelt different here, clean and fresh in a way that wasn’t always possible at home, the Capitol’s array of soaps something that had surprised even her and her relative privilege when she first came here. He smelt different, but there was something that was still him sneaking out from underneath, “Don’t you want to spend the evening with Kate?”

She regrets it as soon as she asks it, pettiness winning out for a second. It could be his last night in some sense of normality before he died and she was upset because her feelings had been hurt, her unrequited love for him that had followed her everywhere her whole life making itself known at the worst possible time. She looks up at him, expecting to see the sting of her words on his face, but she’s only met with confusion.

“Kate?” He asks, and then it clicks into place, the assumption she must have made when he was speaking to Gideon, trying to win some kind of favour with the audience. He’d thought about his literature class at school, how the teacher had always told them that a love story pulled people in, and he’d thought of Emily. Thought of how her seat had been empty during that class because she’d been here in the Capitol, ready to fight for her life. He’d loved her for so long that it had felt good to admit it, even if it wasn’t the whole truth, “Oh, no. Em-”

“I’m sorry,” she says, turning to walk away, “I think I’m just tired-” she’s stopped as he grabs her shoulders and turns her to look at him, his expression intense, a hint of fierceness to it that makes her breath catch in her throat, “What-”

He cuts her off, his words falling free before he can even think about stopping them. He could be brave now.

He might not have many chances left,

“I wasn’t talking about her,” he says, dropping his hands from her shoulders, both of them frozen in place, “I was talking about you.”

It’s everything she’s ever wanted to hear at the worst possible time, and her chest shudders as she lets out a choked noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “Me?”

“Well, I wasn’t talking about Dave,” he says, offering her a half smile that fades as she doesn’t respond to the joke, “Em-”

“Why did you never say anything?”

“You stopped talking to me,” he says, no malice in his voice, only confusion that somehow made him seem younger.

“I was protecting you,” she says quietly, “President Barnes, she…well let's just say, the people close to Victor’s don’t always have the longest life expectancy. The entire time I was in that arena I told myself if I lived I’d tell you. I’d admit what I’d always been too scared to…but I wanted you to live and be happy,” she laughs bitterly, “Even if it was with someone else.”

He knows her well enough to read between the lines and he steps closer, the space between them so small now he can feel her breath skip across his face, “Are you saying…”

She nods, her eyes boring straight into his, an intensity in the darkness of them he’d never seen before, “I love you too.”

Everything shifts, everything he thought he knew suddenly different, and the lingering fear he’d felt for days about what he was about to do disappears. For a moment he feels nothing but love for her. He leans in to kiss her, drawn in by the way she’s looking at him, but she stops him, her fingers pressed against his lips as she shakes her head desperately. It physically hurts to stop him but she can’t let herself have this, can’t have a taste of him when he might die tomorrow.

“No,” she says, the word catching in her throat, “I can’t. You’re…I’ve dreamt of this for years and I don’t think one kiss, one evening would ever be enough,” she says, her thumb still resting against his lower lip, her entire body aching to lean forward to kiss him, “I can’t spend the rest of my life desperately trying to remember what it was like to kiss you.”

He wishes he could pretend that he didn’t understand, but he does. Any amount of time with her would never be enough. Whether it was one night or a lifetime, and if he was her, if he was the one sending her off to what could end up being her death, he knew he couldn’t do it either. That the unknown was better, that it would allow her imagination to live on after him. He tightens his hold on her, pulling her into a fierce hug so he doesn’t go against her wishes, settling for kissing the top of her head instead, for smelling her hair and the shampoo that had always been too nice for where they came from.

“How about,” he says, a hand on either side of her face as he pulls back to look at her, his thumbs catching tears as they land on her cheeks, “ If I live, I’ll take you on a date when I get back?”

She chokes out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she shakes her head as she presses her forehead against his, “Aaron…”

He cups the back of her head and encourages her backwards again, the same smile she’d fallen in love with when she was too young to understand what it meant painted across his face, “Come on,” he says encouragingly, “Give a man going off to his death something to live for.”

She has to bite back the tears, not wanting his last memory of her to be one full of sorrow. She blows out a shaky breath before she nods. She smiles shakily at him and wipes a tear from his face as she does so, pushing it away trying to commit the feel of his skin against hers to her memory.

“Okay,” she says, nodding, an edge of desperation to it, “It’s a date.”

-x-

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dragonwritersblog · 5 months

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Royally Screwed!

Prince Jax of the Kingdom of Laphria was…well, he was a jackass. He kept pranking the servants, threw the wildest parties within the castle and always kept trying to run away from his duties. King Kaleb and his wise Queen Quinn were at their limit, hoping for something to turn their son’s head around. Their prayers were answered when a traveling circus visits the kingdom, including a talented jester named Pomni. Jax’s breath was taken the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew that no matter what, he had to have her. It would be a lot easier though if she didn’t hate his guts.

Read on AO3

1/2/3/4/5

we have a new fic!!! this might not be part 2 of 5+1 but think of this as a little treat until that comes out in the new year. truth be told, this au already had a life of its own before I started writing, artiesrump on twitter came up with the idea on one of their posts and then allhailthequeenuwu continued with making some awesome concept art for it. one thing led to another and I started planning this out during writing the last chapter of 5+1 and here's the first chapter! I really hope you guys enjoy this cause this au is gonna be a lot of fun!

Nothing You Can Take From Me

The kingdom of Laphria.

It was a place of peace and prosperity. Home to beautiful rolling fields and meadows, a sanctuary to its residents and weary travellers and cherished each time the sun and moon would rise, for it was the sign that another beautiful day was upon them. This land was ruled none other than the beloved King Kaleb and his wife Queen Quinn. A couple with the kindest hearts that anyone had ever seen, and I love so strong that it could be seen from oceans away.

Truly, Laphria was perfect…apart from-

“That’s it! I’ve had it!”

The bedroom door of the king and queen’s bedroom slammed open, with the two-chess piece’s rubbing sleep from their bleary eyes as a maid with rubber skin and pink hair stormed in, covered from head to toe in confetti and leftover pudding.

“Oh dear,” once they king’s eyes were focused, he realised the state that the maid was in, “Another party?”

“Yes!” she snapped as a few other servants came in behind her, all covered in the same mess as she was. “How did he make it worse than the last one?! There were spiders in the chandeliers your majesty. Spiders! What kind of party does the prince need that involves spiders?!”

“Well that’s definitely new,” the queen mumbled, not pleased with this at all. She turned to her husband, “I believe we owe our son a chat darling.”

“Agreed,” he nodded, “That boy needs his head screwed tighter before someone knocks it off if he’s behaving this recklessly.”

They threw their comforters off, with the servants and two stationed guards following behind as the couple trekked to their son’s room.

When they arrived at the prince’s room, they had hoped to find a lazy lump of purple fur within the blankets and sheets of the bed. However it seemed that Prince had different ideas. The sheets were still there, only they were tied together into a rope and thrown out his open window.

“Oh no,” the queen groaned as her husband facepalmed. “Not again.”

From a small distance they could hear the boyish and cheerful whoops of a young man along with the stomping hoofs of a horse running further away from the castle.

“Guards!” the king spoke up, alerting the two next to him. “Gather a search party and go after him, I’ll save the chat for when he gets back.”

“Yes your highness,” the wooden toy soldiers chorused, saluting their king before running off.

The king groaned, “Why did the lord make our son so difficult?”

The air, oh just smell that fresh air! That party last night was the perfect distraction for him to get out of there. And the spiders! That was so much better than the centipede trick he pulled last time! And now he was out of the castle, away from his parents pestering him and the servants eyeing his every move. No lessons, no fencing and best of all, no responsibilities. Just him and his freedom.

He eyed the sun rising from across the field, he had been out for a good few hours, making the guards lose their trail of him was the highlight of his morning. Anyway, now was not the time to think about that. He was free to do anything he wanted right now, what should be the first thing he could do? There was the bakery down the street, he could snatch a few loafs down there. Or maybe he could go the seamstress down the street and see if her daughter wanted to ‘spend some time with him' and maybe buy a new dress for his sweet mother. Wait, no, he had a better idea! The firework shop down the street, those would be perfect to create a little show for everyone! Oh this was going to be perfect!

He took off again, lifting up the hood of his cloak over his head to conceal his identity. Once he arrived in the village, he took his horse into a spare stable and kept him there before making his way to the shop. He was able to sneak in and out thanks to his combat training (and he begrudgingly left a few coins behind because damn his lovely mother and her teachings of morals).

He ran to the village centre, laying the fireworks in an upwards motion before striking a match and running into the nearest alleyway to watch the show go down.

Boom!

The confused and petrified screams of the villagers were nothing but melodies in his ears. He couldn’t hold back his cackles as some ducked for cover at the loud boom, others had dropped their shopping and started sobbing, some even jumped at least ten feet into the air and landed on the rooftops. An obnoxiously loud snicker escaped him when a spare firework failed to soar into the sky like its siblings, instead it chased someone around until he fell to the ground and it smashed into a shop window. Truly, this was the best morning he had in a while.

His fun was ruined however when the familiar sound of clanking armour and huffs of horses made him snap out of his trance. The castle guards were coming, great. And that little light show was definitely a massive help for them to find him. Only Prince Jax of Laphria could pull off a stunt like that. He didn’t want to be caught, not yet anyway. He wanted to have a little bit more fun before going back to his gilded cage. There was a pile of crates and an old market stall with the cover still on top, if he could climb on those and blend into the shadows of the walls, he could be able to hide until the guards leave. Hehe, Jax you are an absolute genius he smugly thought to himself.

And so he did just that, he climbed on the crates, jumped on the old stall and grabbed the edge of the roof while resting his feet on the side of the wall. Hidden within the shadows and from the guards. He was truly too smart for his own good. But just before he could properly pat himself on the back, there was a tiny meow above him.

He looked up, and right next to his hand gripping the roof was a small brown tabby kitten.

Mew

“Uh, hi?” The prince gave him an awkward wave.

Mew!

Jack cringed, that was a little bit too loud. The last thing he needed was to be outed to the guards by a tiny round ball of fluff. “Keep it down, would ya!” he hissed at the kitten, “You’re gonna blow my cover!”

The kitten tilted his small head, turning to look at the guards and then back to Jax. The prince sighed in relief when he kept quiet, returning his focus to the soldiers when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He whipped his head back round to see to kitten pulling at the cuff of the fabric with its teeth. “Hey, hey! Quit it!” he tried to shove him away with his free hand, but the feline had a tight grip and refused to let go.

Jax bit his lip, trying to keep an eye of the search party. There was no way he was going to get found out because of a stupid stray cat!

He let out a yelp when he felt a paw swipe at his hand, along with a hint of claws. Now the kitten thought his hand was a toy, and that this little interaction of theirs was now a game. “No, no!” Jax pushed him away again, but the feline just kept coming back with his claws now fully out and leaving little scars on the prince’s hand. “Piss off!”

The kitten pulled back, Jax swore he was literally glaring at him. He gulped when the kitten leaned back on his haunches and wiggled his tail as though he were a little lion hunting his prey. “Don’t you dare,” Jax growled.

…mew

The feline wasn’t put off by the empty threat however, launching himself onto Jax’s hand, biting and scratching as though his hand were nothing more than a scratch post. “AAAHHH YOU LITTLE-” he cried out in pain as he let go the ledge to escape the attack on his fingers, unfortunately that action sent him face first in the pile of crates – which were filled to the brim with grapes, soiling his clothes.

The guards turned at the sudden noise, only to see their prince covered in purple stains and looking as if he emerged from the greatest battle of his life.

Jax lifted himself from the squashed fruit underneath him, cringing as he felt the fruit’s liquid seeped from his clothes and onto his fur. He dramatically groaned when the guards crowded him. “So, did you have fun with your wild goose chase?” he remarked at the soldiers glared at him.

Jax practically stomped throughout the castle as the guards guided him to the throne room, there was no doubt that his parents wanted to have some colourful words with him about the recent stunts he pulled.

The doors of the throne opened, revealing a disgruntled King Kaleb and a disappointed Queen Quinn. Jax winced, he could tell that he was in for an earful.

“You! Young man,” Kaleb got off from his throne and descended down the steps below it, “You are restricted to the castle grounds. Until I give my word, you are forbidden to step one foot out of these walls unless you have my permission.”

“Or what?” Jax rolled his eyes as he plopped onto the last step, slouching in an un-princely manner. “Are you gonna force me to play a metaphorical game of chess and how ‘my attitude is a disgrace to the people of our kingdom and it somehow represents the chess pieces’ of the game and all that other shit.”

“Don’t mock me Jax,” Kaleb grumbled, making his way closer to his son. “You are the crown prince and heir to Laphria, you must treat your role with respect!”

Jax turned suddenly, glaring at his father, “It’s also my life and I should have the freedom to do what I want with it.”

The king was about to say another word, a slight growl leaving his throat before he was stopped by his wife’s voice.

“Kabel, please sit down. The last thing we need is for you to have a stroke.” Quinn stood and made her way towards the two men. “Jax, you were born to privilege and with that comes specific obligations. You are an important figure to our people, one day the crown will go to you. You have to know what it truly means to be leader. But first, you have to accept the responsibility that comes with it, not just as a royal, but as one of your people.”

Jax sighed, he could deal with his father giving him lectures (it was rather funny seeing the old chess piece get riled up), but his mother was an entirely different story. If the rest of the world was cold stone, Quinn was a diamond. His father was a good man, kind and caring to his son while teaching him everything to know about the kingdom’s past present and future, but Quinn was always there to hold him whenever he was sad, help him with a hard lesson when he got to frustrated if he didn’t know the answer, taught him the values of human kindness even if the world kept spitting it back out. Just seeing that look on her face, knowing he did the complete opposite of what she taught him, it felt as though he were carrying the worst plague known to man.

“Forgive me mother, but shouldn’t I be the one to carry out how I choose to live my life than be restricted with what I’m expected to pick and choose?” he stood, facing Quinn. “And have you ever considered that perhaps I’m not worthy to be given the crown?”

“No, I don’t,” Quinn admitted. “A normal person who wasn’t worthy would not be trying so hard to fail.”

Shit. His mother always read him like an open book. “And what are you gonna do to stop me?” he retorted, trying to reel himself back in order to save whatever natural charm he had left.

“I will simply deny you the crown and…um, live forever!” Kaleb declared, his wife shaking her head at his ridiculous outburst.

“Finally,” Jax cheered, clapping his hands. “Thank you father. Now there’s something we can both agree on.”

Kaleb grumbled under his breath as his sudden mistake, letting his pride getting in the way of his logic were incidents that happened on the odd occasion, but it still meant that they did happen despite the rareness of it. Surprise, surprise, it was caused by his son. “You’re dismissed,” Kaleb waved his hand, “Take this time to at least attempt to reflect back on your actions.”

“No can do,” Jax bowed mockingly before the guards came back in to escort him to his room.

Once their son was gone and the doors were shut did Quinn turn back to her husband, “Seriously? Telling our son – who is doing everything in his path to avoid responsibility – that you’re going to not make him king was your best idea?”

“I know, I know,” Kaleb sighed. “Our son has a talent for making me lose my head sometimes. I just…I’m at a loss here Queenie, I don’t know what to do.”

She took his hands in her when he said his nickname for her, a silent calling for help. “Kinger,” She replied with the nickname she had for him in return, “I know how you’re feeling. It’s hard seeing him act like this, but he can only be helped if he allows someone to do so. But I have a feeling that something will strike that boy with realisation soon. He’s a good man and will be a great leader someday. We just need to let him find his sense of self first.”

“I hope you’re right,” Kinger sighed, “I think Jax is making me age faster than I should be.”

Queenie let out a small laugh, “Don’t worry, you’re still that same young man I met by the lake at midnight.”

“I still remember it like it was yesterday,” he said, letting the memory play behind his eyes. “You looked so beautiful, and I kept getting tongue-tied trying to figure out what to say to you.”

“It was adorable though,” she cooed. “Just wait until Jax gets his head turned, that will certainly be fun to watch.”

“Huh, now there’s an interesting thought,” Kinger chuckled. “Our son tripping over his feet over a girl or boy.”

“Perhaps that will knock some sense into him,” Queenie suggested as she rested her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“Only time will tell my dear,” Kinger patted her hand, “Only time will tell.”

Jax slammed his door, throwing back the curtains of his canopy bed before dumping himself face first onto his bed, letting out a load groan into his pillow. He was almost free, almost able to do anything he wanted without fear of consequences. If it wasn’t for that puny little stray he wouldn’t have gotten caught. That’s it, he now deemed cats as the worst animal in the world.

And what his mother said?! ‘Trying too hard to fail?’ Oh please, why couldn’t his parents except that he just wasn’t fit to be king? It would save them all both stress and time. There were plenty of other worthy noble figures in the kingdom, just toss them the crown and everything will be fine! He flipped over in his bed and onto his back, rubbing his hands over his face. He may be stubborn, but he would be damned if he didn’t inherit it from his parents.

He jumped when he heard a faint scratching sound at the doors of his balcony. He turned slowly to see a small blob at the bottom of the door window. He got up from his bed, going over and opened the doors. His stomach sank, sitting right in front of him was the stupid kitten that got him into this mess. “Oh no!” he glared at the tiny feline, “Absolutely not! You can’t come here after backstabbing me like that.”

Mew

The kitten ignored him and pattered inside, roaming around the room and taking in his surroundings. “Hey, get out!” Jax chased after him and picked the cat up by the scruff of his neck. “Don’t walk around as if you own the place!”

Mew

“Oh I get it,” Jax scowled at him, “You think you can act all cute and get whatever you want after what you just did. Well guess what fleabag? That shit won’t work on me.”

Mew

The kitten gently pressed a paw on Jax’s cheek, no claws and no malice. Just a small kitten reaching out for some affection. A lonely tiny creature…scared a hungry…despite how feral it seemed at first, all it really wanted was warmth for another being. Jax shook his head, “Nope! You are not cute,” he pointed his finger to the feline, “You hear me you are not-”

The kitten gave his finger a little lick.

Mew

Jack exhaled slowly, “I’m not gonna win this one, aren’t I?” The kitten purred against his finger, with the rabbit giving him a scratch behind his ears. “Alright fine. If you stay here at least you won’t be terrorising anyone else. I’ll accept ‘responsibility’ or whatever it was mother said. See, I’m able to do that.”

Mew

Jax shifted the kitten, sliding an arm under his chest and held him with his hand. “You’re gonna need a name first. If you’re staying here, the staff is gonna need to know what to call you,” he took a good look at the brown tabby, thinking for a moment what the best name would be for a small little feline like this. “Hhmm. How about…Motley?” The kitten only titled its head in response, “Yup, you look like a Motley.”

Motley let out a meow, purring as the prince scratched behind his ear again. Jax grimaced as he noticed dirt under the kitten’s fur, he must’ve been on the streets for some time if that amount of dirt had built up. “But first, a bath,” he declared, “The last thing we need are your paws trailing mud everywhere. Just be lucky my mother didn’t catch you, the last time I did that was the first time I believed the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was about to become real.”

Motley went silent at that, seeming as he were choosing not to test if that were true or not with the queen. “Come on,” Jax carried him to the bathroom, “Time for a bath.”

The kitten let out a protesting mewl at that, Jax rolling his eyes. To be fair, he showed some resistance to baths when he was younger as well so he couldn’t fault Motley for that.

He stepped into the marbled bathroom and moved to the porcelain tub, turning on the water and testing the temperature before putting in the plug and plopping Motley down. The kitten was not happy at all with the sudden change, already hissing and clawing at Jax’s hands, trying to get out of the bathtub as the rabbit grimaced at the new scratches.

Yup, cats were just delightful.

Despite the gruelling process, he finally managed to get Motley clean. The kitten was glaring at him the whole time he was getting dried off. Honestly, Jax felt a little smug about it. Revenge for selling me out you little shit.

Although, there was something quite heartwarming about all of this once the kitten was dry. He lay on the mattress, nuzzling the soft blankets underneath him as he though it were the first time he rested on a bed. Fully trusting someone with his safety after a life on the streets.

Jax felt a smile on his lips, before shaking it off and picked up Motley under his chest again, “Come on. You can sleep later, let’s get some food in you first before my parents send the cavalry to my room just so I get to dinner.”

Mew

Motley seemed to like the sound of that, climbing up Jax’s arms and curled himself around the prince’s neck, with the rabbit automatically giving his head a scratch. “Yeah, yeah. Little attention whore.”

The cat didn’t seem to take notice of the prince’s comment, rubbing his face against the prince’s cheek (Jax was desperately trying not to coo at the adorableness of it all).

He made his way down the halls, not caring for the servants who stared at the new little creature round his shoulders. All he wanted was food and then sleep, maybe plan another escape plan if he had the energy for it. Finally, he made it to the dining room, his parents already waiting for him while chatting excitedly in hushed voices.

Now that intrigued Jax, not by much but still, “What are you two going on about?”

His parents turned at the sound of his voice, suddenly gawking at him as though he had grown a third head. “Uh…Jax?” Queenie spoke.

“What?” Jax placed a hand on his hip.

Kinger raised a finger to the feline, “Who is…um, your friend?”

Jax switched his gaze to Motley, the kitten staring at the two monarchs with wide eyes, “Oh him? This is Motley, he’s the worst thing in the world but I guess he’s my cat now. You don’t mind if he sticks around, would ya?”

“I-” Queenie was genuinely at a loss for words. Yes Jax had brought back to the castle much odder things – and people – but never once did she expect that he would bring back a kitten. “Well, he does look very sweet.”

“Here,” he lifted the cat off his neck and placed him down in his mother’s lap, “You can take him for a while, I need a minute to get away from the stench of kitten breath.”

The queen was about to say something to Jax, before Motley rubbed his head against her hand, silently requesting for her to pet him. “Oh,” Queenie cooed, unable to resist the small creature’s sweet eyes peering up at her as she ran her fingers down his back, “Well aren’t you adorable.”

“Adorably annoying,” Jax muttered under his breath.

“And yet you still chose to keep him,” Kinger retorted. He didn’t have a mouth, but if he did Jax swore he would definitely be smirking at him right now.

Jax scoffed at his father, pulling up a chair and immediately slumping once he sat down. The chef’s brought in the dishes and lifted up the lids to start serving the royal family their food consisting of mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, freshly baked bread and a whole chicken - along with a little bowl of food for Motley once they heard about the surprise guest. As soon and Jax tucked into his meal, he turned back to his mother, “So, what were you two giggling about before I walked in?”

Queenie perked up at the mention, “I’m so glad you asked! There’s a travelling circus going around and is coming to visit our kingdom! There are lion tamers, tightrope walkers, even a contortionist!”

“Sound the same as every other circus,” Jax muttered as he played with his food.

“Your mother has been really excited for this,” Said Kinger, “Apparently they have a star performer that everyone is obsessed with.”

“Oh please,” Jax stabbed his fork into a carrot, “What could be so special about them that they’ve got everyone tripping over themselves for?”

“Word says that she has a special talent with magic tricks, so good that no one can tell how she pulled it off,” Queenie explained, “That and she has a beautiful singing voice.”

“So she can sing a little and show someone their spade card, so what?” Jax said, “Anyone will put a label on someone to promote something because they know it’s gonna attract an audience. Like dangling a toy in front of a cat…no offense Motley.”

Mew

“Regardless,” Queenie sighed, “As the royal family, we’ve agreed to watch them on opening night when they arrive. And you’re coming to Jax, no exceptions.”

“You’re kidding?” Jax groaned, slamming his fork onto his plate at his mother’s words.

“Please Jax,” Queenie’s eyes softened towards him, “I understand the apprehension, but this is something that I really want to do with us all together. Not just as an expectation of us as royals to see an event, but to spend time as a family to see a fun show. Please sweetheart, for me?”

Jax’s heart twisted at the look on his mother’s face. He sighed, he didn’t like putting on all this stress for his parents, for his mother took it harder the most. She saw so much good in him, so much faith in him in both as a prince and son. His father still expected more from him, but his mother – no matter how many times he was an absolute prick to her – always saw the best in Jax, somehow knowing that deep down there was that light that needed to be reached. It was annoying…but that was what he loved about his mother. He should at least to this for her, she’s been through enough as it was.

“Fine,” Jax sighed, picking up his cutlery today, “For you mother. But I’m bringing Motley too, he has to suffer with me.”

Mew

“I think I would enjoy his company very much,” Queenie nodded, petting the kitten, “After all, he’s part of the family now.”

“Oh, great,” Jax muttered, sipping some water.

“You’re the one who brought him home,” Kinger teased in a sing-song voice.

The prince scowled, muttering, “Shut up Dad.”

The theatre was packed. Anyone who was anyone in the kingdom had all been invited to see the travelling circus, but more so, they were curious about the star performer that no one could stop talking about. The whole theatre was built as a circle, for the audience to watch while a door on the far side of the circular ring was connected to what people theorised to be the tent.

The royal family had a special booth reserved only for them to oversee the show from the best angle, wearing their best attire and crowns. Jax slouched in his chair, ignoring his father’s bickering for him to sit up. He really didn’t want to be here, but his mother looked so excited. At least he brought Motley so that he was forced to indulge in the prince’s misery. Although he wouldn’t bet on the cat being that upset, after all he was well fed, groomed and sat on Jax’s lap to watch an amazing show.

“You’ll see Jax,” Queenie whispered to him amongst the chatter, “There’s gonna be something in this show that’ll leave you breathless.”

“If that happens, I’ll eat my crown,” he muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Kinger retorted, stifling his laughter at Jax’s annoyed expression.

The lights dimmed, spotlight centring the stage as the crowds went silent. Jax scoffed, everyone got excited way too easily over a room doing dark. He ran his hand over Motley’s head, the kitten’s eyes entranced by the bright colours. Honestly he should have expected it from him, he was a cat after all, you could swing a necklace in front of him and he would think it was the best thing in the world.

The drums rolled, and from the back of the set-up tent, a clown ran out onto stage. “Welcome one and all to our circus!” he bellowed, the crowd applauding madly in response. Jax clapped slowly in an unimpressed manner while Kinger and Queenie gave out a cheer. “My name is Kaufmo and I will both your ringmaster and clown for this evening! We have a very special line up for all you lovely folks! From lions! To tightropes! And our own special star that I know you’ve all been waiting for!”

The crowd went rapid at that sentence. Jax just scoffed, everyone was such a sheep these days.

“But I won’t keep you waiting any longer, let’s get right to the sho-woah!” Kaufmo suddenly slipped on a conveniently placed banana peel before landing face first into the ground, making the crowd erupt into laughter.

Really? Jax thought to himself, this is what gets people going?

“Oh, sorry ladies and gentlemen,” Kaufmo brushed himself off with a goofy smile, “But I’m sure we can move on from here.” As if timed perfectly, a bucket of water fell on his head, soaking him to the brim.

Jax sighed at the audience overexcitement of the shenanigans. “Everyone knows that this is rehearsed, right?” he whispered to his mother, “This is so cliché!”

“Oh shush,” Queenie waved a hand at him dismissively, “It’s funny Jax. Just have fun.”

Jax feel back into his seat, trying to seek an accomplice in Motley, but he seemed to be as addicted to this as the rest of the crowd.

The clown continued with that as his act, tripping and falling while telling jokes left and right at the same time. Jax found the whole thing pretentious, why was everyone acting like they hadn’t seen a clown before? Were they really that desperate for entertainment?

As soon as he finished with his act, a ragdoll with red hair wandered on stage, waving and smiling sweetly at the audience while carrying a couple of hoops over her shoulder. Kaufmo patted her on the shoulder as she set up the hoops before he went back into the exit of the tent. It seemed that the ragdoll seemed to be caught up with her setting up, for two lions prowled out with her back turned.

The crowd murmured as they stalked closer, sitting back on their haunches, ready to pounce. Everyone’s cries to the Ragdoll fell on deaf ears as she continued to hum and prepare. Suddenly, the lions pounced! The crowd screamed! The ragdoll whipped round, and raised both of her hands, placing it each on the lions’ noses respectively. The audience gasped. She moved, the lions going backwards with her as she led them to the corner of the ring.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out two strips of meat. “Stay,” she commanded, the lions obeying her word.

From the top of the ring, there were jumps set up, each one of them a different height and climbing up like a staircase on each side until meeting at the same height in the middle. Both lions went on each side of the steps, jumping and climbing until they reached the top. With a snap of a finger, the first lion jumped down, standing on all fours in a circle while the second lion jumped on its back, balancing there for a few seconds as the audience applauded.

But it wasn’t over yet, the second lion jumped down and both trotted and separated themselves to the two set up rings respectively. With another snap of her finger, both lions jumped through at the same time. Jax put his elbow on the arm of his throne, resting his cheek in his palm. Woah, animals jumping, so revolutionary. The ragdoll disappeared off stage for a moment, returning with a flaming torch as the audience murmured. Everyone faces dropped once they realised what the flame was for. Without sparing a moment, she lit both the rings on fire.

She snapped her finger, the lions ran, without a moment of hesitation, they jumped.

The crowds held their breathes, some even shutting their eyes out of fear.

Both lions came out unscathed and the fire went out. There was a beat, before the audience cheered and whistled and the ragdoll and lions bowed before going back off stage.

“That was incredible!” Queenie exclaimed, “I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it!”

“Imagine the courage one must have for that!” Kinger agreed, “That young woman was fearless!”

Jax shook his head at his parents’ antics, “Oh come on! No one actually believed that they were gonna go on fire! There wouldn’t even be a circus at this point if that happened!”

“Jax, you have to admit that her skills were impressive,” Kinger pointed out.

“You’re just easily amused,” the prince huffed. Motley was kneading Jax’s trousers beneath his paws, copying how the lions kneaded the ground each time before they performed a trick. Jax patted his head, “Sorry to break it to ya buddy, but you’re only gonna be the size of a foot when you’re older. Might as well give up on those lion dreams of yours.”

Mew

Someone new came on, a pink and yellow amalgamation of parts who looked as though they were going to fall apart any minute. Their routine was simple enough, twisting and stretching their limbs in the most unbelievably flexible ways. The audience oo’ed and aa’ed at how far he could take it without even showing a wince on her face.

“He’s cheating,” Jax muttered, “He can literally detach himself, it doesn’t count.”

This time it was Motley’s turn to shush him, swiping his paw at the prince’s shirt with a mewl. Jax pulled a face at the kitten but quieted down anyway.

Once the contortionist went back off stage, the lights started to go upwards, revealing a tightrope with two performers at the top. The first seemed to be a woman with the head of a Moon on her shoulders, while the other was a man around her age who shared the appearance of the Sun. Nodding to the Sun, the Moon began her routine. Tip toeing across the rope, seeming as though to fall off – to the audience’s collective shock – before breaking out into a pirouette, as though there wasn’t a fifty-foot drop beneath her.

The Sun started to do the same, spinning on one foot before both of them stopped at the same time. Both of them ran to the middle, taking one another’s hand before producing canes from their sides. The two began to perform a little tap dance on the rope, waving their canes around without a care in the world with grins on their faces. While the audience was losing their mind, Jax inspected his nails to make sure there wasn’t any dirt in them, far less interested than everyone else.

The Sun and Moon ran off back to the ends of each side of the rope, pulling out a unicycle and mounted them before cycling back onto the rope. They went back and forth, pulling out a few small balls from their waistcoats and began to juggle them,

Jax was sure he had read about this scene in a book before, nothing new here.

Finally, the duo finished and bowed for their cheers before running back off again.

The next act seemed to have the entire circus cast out, including a new member, a body of ribbons and a mask on her face. A few tables and chairs were set up as well as some sort of makeshift kitchen area. The ribbon girl seemed to be playing some sort of waitress, stumbling and shaking in an exaggerated manner. Jax groaned, realising that this was going to be a slapstick act, just great.

The act was predictable, a couple played by the ragdoll and clown were on a date, the sun and moon were bystanders and the contortionist was the owner of the pretend restaurant. The ‘waitress’ was attempting to get a meal out to the ‘couple’, but was constantly messing up. Whether it was tripping over a ‘customer’s’ foot, absentmindedly eating the food herself, even forgetting which table to bring the food to. Each mistake would lead her back to the start of her journey. It all escalated when she tripped one more time, bumping into the clown and making him get on one knee, as though he were proposing. The act ended with the ‘couple’ getting together, the other ‘customers’ being happy for them, even the ‘owner’ was happy for them and the ribbon lady keeping her fake job.

The crowd clapped again once the act was completed, Jax however felt as though he was about to fall asleep. At least there was only one act left and he would be down with this fiasco.

“Just you wait Jax,” Queenie leaned over to him, “I’ve heard far and wide that this star performer has entranced every audience she’s come across.”

“I for one am very excited,” Kinger said, “She must be very talented if she’s the most talked about.”

“As long as it’s the last act, then I’m fine,” Jax sank further in his chairs, Motley now sitting straight instead as he prepared himself for the final act.

What he didn’t know was said star performer was currently hiding within the shadow of the ceiling, taking a breath to calm her trembling nerves before she had to go on. She looked to Kaufmo within the tent, behind the scenes on the ground. He looked up to her, mouthing to her if she was okay. She nodded and closed her eyes, she could so this.

The lights dimmed one more time, as two red aerial silks fell from the roof. Jax’s eyes wondered to the top, a small trapeze swing between the two silks. He could barely see what was up there, there was a shape of a body but it wasn’t even visible. Why would anyone get excited over someone they couldn’t see-

-You can't take my past

You can't take my history

His ears perked. A voice rang out into the empty quiet like a melodic bell.

You could take my Pa

But his name's a mystery

It had to be the most beautiful thing he ever heard in his life. Soft and delicate yet commanded everyone’s attention, including his.

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

The body stood, grabbing both silks in her hands and startled twirling down, the strum of a guitar started playing and the audience clapped along with the upbeat tempo. Once the lights shone on her, Jax stiffened, his voice caught in his throat and his heart started throbbing madly in his chest.

The woman holding and sitting on the silks was a jester, with short and shiny brown hair, mesmerising red and blue eyes, along with milky skin that seemed to be smooth to the touch. She wore a regular jester hat, only the bells were replaced with two gold spheres and wore a glittering red and yellow leotard with long sleeves instead of a usual get up he’d come to expect from that line of work.

And her voice, of her voice. How it charmed him, like a river, both calming yet ready to be powerful when needed. His lips began to quirk into a smile as his foot involuntarily tapped along with the music.

You can't take my charm!

You can't take my humour

You can't take my wealth

Cause it's just a rumour!

Putting her body weight into one of the silks, she let go of the other one and started to swing round the ring, putting out her hand to the audience as they tried to reach her. Once the silk slowed, she used her other hand to grab it and twirled upside down as she kept singing.

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

She lifted herself up, twisting the ribbon until she was in a sitting position one knee up to her chest and her other leg pointed out.

Thinking you're so fine

Thinking you can have mine

Thinking you're in control

Thinking you'll change me

Maybe rearrange me

Think again if that's your goal!

She uncurled the silk, twirling back down to the ground in a graceful manner until her feet hit the ground and she faced the crowd. The audience went wild, shaking one another in their seats as the jester continued to dance. Jax found himself cheering along as well.

Queenie took a moment to look at her son, bewildered by the fact that he began to enjoy himself. Sure the act was amazing, but there was something else about him. His posture became more relaxed, his smile seemed to be genuinely happy and free of malice, and his eyes were locked in and focused on the jester…wait a minute. She looked back to the jester and then back at Jax before letting out a gasp of realisation.

“Darling? What’s wrong?” Kinger asked, worry lacing in tone for his wife.

“Nothing, nothing my dear,” she reassured him, “I think our son is in love.”

The jester stopped for a moment, bringing her bare feet together before lifting a hand again. She waved it around her head, a navy night blue mist appearing from it. Just like lightening, she vanished!

The crowd and Jax gasped, whipping their heads round to find where she could have gone.

Cause you can't take my sass

You can't take my talking

They followed her voice and found her in the right corner of the ring, continued her song with her harmonic voice. She waved her hand and disappeared again. This time, appearing in the royal family’s booth. Both Queenie and Kinger exclaimed in surprise and delight.

The jester made her way towards Jax, reaching out to him. His pulse thundered in his ears and heat began to rise to his cheeks. To his shock, she pulled her crown over his eyes and disappeared again, making Jax snap up and push his crown back as he tried to look for her again.

You can kiss my ass!

Then keep on walking

She was back in the middle of the ring, strutting as if nothing has happened. She waved her hand one more time, making the silks levitate on their own, surrounded by the blue mist as they neared her.

… Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

As they travelled slowly, the red silks slowly faded into the same colour as her mist, the crowd awing at the trick. Jax noticed her leotard and hat doing the same, the yellow and red disappearing, replacing it with a diamond-sequined deep blue with spaghetti straps instead.

No sir, nothing you can take from me is worth dirt

Take it cause I give it free, it won't hurt

She grabbed the silks again and lifted herself, twirling them around her until she was sitting on them like a swing.

… Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

No nothing you can take was ever worth keeping

The music quickened as she climbed up the silks again, Jax’s eyes following her every move, too entranced to look away. Both she and the music got faster, climbing and climbing and climbing until she grabbed and pulled herself back onto the trapeze swing, saluted the audience – and with one more wave of her hand, sparks erupted from her place, dazzling the audience. Once they had faded, the crowd looked back. She was gone, as if she was never there in the first place with the silks returning to their original red colour.

There was a beat.

The audience stood, cheers and screams ripping from their throats as a thunder of applause ripped through the crowd. Jax couldn’t stand due to Motley in his lap, but he was still just as loud. Motley meanwhile was looking at him, titling his head from the prince’s reaction to the jester. It intrigued the little kitten to say the least.

The entire cast ran out, including the jester, giving one final bow as the crowds cheered louder before disappearing back into the tent.

The lights went back on as everyone began to murmur and whisper to one another about how amazing the show was. Jax was left awestruck, frozen in his chair, unable to process the complete and utter dazzlement that was the singing jester.

“I take it my son has a crown he has to eat now,” Kinger chuckled, brushing his robe a little bit.

Jax didn’t reply, still stuck in his own head.

“Jax, are you alright?” Queenie asked, getting a bit worried.

“That jester…” he breathed.

Oh, now Queenie understood, her suspicions being confirmed. “I see,” she nodded slowly, “I take it you like her?”

Jax turned his head so fast that he nearly got whiplash. “Like her?” he questioned his mother, “She’s incredible! Her voice! Did you hear her voice?! It’s not like anything that I’ve heard, and the fact that she can sing while doing all that in the air! And her magic tricks! Oh mother, she was amazing!”

He caught himself when he saw both his mother and father raising both their brows at him. He decided to save himself further embarrassment, he already knew that they would tease him about this enough as it is. An idea went off in his head. The circus had a while before they went back to whatever inn they were staying at to rest, perhaps he could pay the little jester a visit before he left.

“You guys hold onto Motley for a while,” he stood, picking up the kitten as he mewled while being placed in his mother’s arms. “I’m gonna go give that jester my congratulations.”

“Uh, Jax?” Queenie said, but Jax was already running out of the booth, “Jax!”

“Oh dear,” Kinger muttered, “I believe we made a mistake.”

Pomni sighed with relief, her blue leotard reverting back to its yellow and red while talking off her hat as soon as she was back behind the scenes, everyone hugging one another and giving each other high fives.

“You guys did great!” Kaufmo grinned, “I’m so impressed of how are far you’ve all have come!”

“Not bad for opening night,” Zooble placed a hand on his hip, “Although I think most of it is owed to Gangle and her creative skit idea.” She gave the woman a wink, the ribboned woman blushing at her partner.

“Zooble,” she giggled as they pulled her close, “You were great too.”

“Being out there has never made me feel so alive,” Moon let out a relaxed breath, recalling the euphoria of being on the tightrope.

“I agree!” Sun beamed, practically jumping up and down with joy, “It was spectacular, amazing, show-stopping, fantastic, spectacular- oops, I said that already, didn’t I?” He rubbed his neck bashfully.

“Don’t worry about it Sun,” Ragatha patted his shoulder, using her other hand to pet her lions. “However I can’t deny that Pomni stole the show, as she always does.”

Pomni gave her a shy smile, shuffling her feet a bit, “Stop, you’ll make me flustered.”

“Because its true!” Ragatha exclaimed, the rest of the cast nodding their heads in agreement, “You’re a stable of this show!”

“A true star, and trust me, I know a lot about them,” Moon gave her an amused look.

“You were like a million stars at once!” Sun cried, “Though if you think about it, stars are also suns, so you were like a million suns! Wow!”

“I mean, I agree…I still liked Gangle the best though,” Zooble murmured.

“I always love hearing you sing Pomni,” Gangle took her hand, “You have the voice of an angel.”

Kaufmo came up and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I for one couldn’t be prouder.” He gave it a reassuring squeeze, with Pomni placing her hand on his.

“Thanks Kaufmo,” she smiled back.

“How are you doing kiddo?” he asked softly, “I saw you shaking up there before you went on. Did you have those nightmares again?”

Pomni paled. It was quite jarring how easily he could read her. Kaufmo had been her rock since day one after all, he knew better than anyone when she had hard nights. She opened her mouth to answer when someone barged into the room.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the cast of the show,” Prince Jax jeered, making himself at home, “Don’t mind me, I just wanted to thank you guys for an awesome show. Especially you little lady.” He winked at Pomni.

Pomni choked, why on earth was the prince waltzing in here unannounced? Didn’t he have princely duties to attend to? And why the hell was he calling her little lady?!

“Oh well, that’s very kind of you-” Gangle began to walk up to him but was pushed aside by him and she fell right into Zooble’s arms.

“Hey!” Zooble snarled, checking Gangle for any injuries. “What’s your problem?!”

“Excuse me,” Ragatha placed a hand on her hip, “You can’t just do that to one of our own. Not when we travelled all the way here to put on a show for you and your kingdom!”

“Look doll-face, I didn’t ask for you to be here,” he sneered, before turning his gaze back to Pomni. “Not that I’m complaining though.”

Pomni scoffed, gaping as she looked to Moon and Sun, the former of the duo looking furious. “I have the right mind to drag you out by the ears of you don’t apologize to Gangle right now,” Moon hissed.

Sun gulped, hiding behind his twin sister.

Ragatha’s lions had even began to have enough of his presence, growling and baring their teeth at him as he backed away slowly.

“Now, now,” he tsked, “We don’t want the crown prince of Laphria to go back out with his handsome face all mangled, now do we?”

Everyone’s faces fell. He was right, one wrong move and they’d all be imprisoned.

“All I want is to speak to your little jester here, is that such a crime?” he pouted.

They all turned to Pomni, awaiting her decision on what to do with this situation. “Kiddo, Pomni, you don’t have to do anything he tells you to do,” Kaufmo reassured her.

“Don’t worry Pa,” she said, a little nickname that she saved just for him, “I got this.”

Kaufmo’s eyes flickered to Jax, glaring at him before going back to Pomni. He smiled at her and let her continue.

Pomni walked to Jax, the prince was already acting smug about it too. “So, Prince Jax of Laphria,” she raised a brow at him, “In the flesh.”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he grinned, it seemed to be starting off well. She looks even lovelier without her hat on.

“Oh I’ve heard of you,” Pomni confirmed, “You’ve got quite the reputation it seems.”

“All good things I bet,” The prince smirked, looming over her.

Pomni didn’t move a muscle, the height difference didn’t affect her for what she was going to say next. “Actually,” she began. “I heard you’re a no-good son of a bitch who spends his days disrespecting those who sacrifice their mornings and nights just to serve whatever little thing he wants.”

Jax’s eyes widened, this was not how he thought this was going to go.

“Awful to the people who not only rule this kingdom but spent every day of their lives raising you just for you to turn out to be a jerk,” Pomni continued to list it off.

Jax was going to admit it, that one stung a little.

“You embarrass those you deem beneath you and refuse to take responsibility when their reputation is ruined because of your words and actions!” she scowled.

Okay yeah, he’ll admit it, he took that one a little too far.

“You cause destruction and mayhem in your own home with the worst of the upper class because you feel like it!” another flaw she pointed out. “And what was your most recent one? Let me think. Oh yeah, you set off fireworks and nearly set fire to a village you’re going to rule over one day!”

Jax rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Word really got round fast about that, huh?

“So excuse me your royal highness, but I would like nothing for you to leave this tent and never step ten feet toward me again,” she gave him an exaggerated bow, still glaring at him. “Now if you don’t mind, leave!”

He opened his mouth to speak, only to be faced with the glares of a protective clown, a ragdoll with a knife, a Moon holding a noose and two lions looking at their next meal. Yup time for him to leave.

Pomni sighed with relief the moment he left. She didn’t think she would have the courage to stand up to someone as important as the prince like that, but she was glad she did. Everyone patted her on the back, impressed with her accomplishment as well, including Kaufmo. “Great job kiddo,” He murmured.

Pomni smiled warmly, “Thanks Pa.”

Jax walked out the tent, meeting the dissatisfied looks on his parent’s faces. “Well, we did try to warn you,” Queenie muttered, handing him back Motley, “But I’m afraid this is one of those cases where your heart is bigger than your brain.”

Motley mewled in seemingly agreement with the queen, rubbing his head against Jax’s palm so he could pet him.

“Let’s head back home,” said Kinger, taking Queenie’s hand lovingly before whispering in her ear. “I have a feeling that star performer won’t be leaving his head anytime soon.”

Queenie nodded subtly in agreement and the royal family headed out of the theatre.

During the carriage ride back, while petting Motley, Jax couldn’t stop thinking about that jester…no, Pomni was her name. That was what the clown said, right? The bite of her words, the ice within her eyes, the sharpness of her tone. All of it was meant to push him away…it was a good thing that Jax was determined and stupid.

He would show her that she wasn’t what she said he was! He’s a prince, he could do anything! He was going to shower her in the most lavish gifts known to man. Whether it be gowns, food, new equipment for her shows, anything! He was going to show her that he was worthy of her time.

In fact, he sure that be the end of the week, she would be fawning at his feet. Jax chuckled, he was way too good at this.

Motley could only watch in despair as his new master set himself up for failure.

Song Credit: Nothing You Can Take From Me by Rachel Zegler.

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may--hawk · 27 days

Text

always crashing (in the same car)

mayhawk

Summary:

During a fight with Aziraphale, Crowley pauses time and goes back to the Bentley to sleep it off (and come up with a really great comeback). When he wakes up the next morning, it’s still Wednesday. Again. Somehow, he’s gotten them stuck in a time loop. It’s Wednesday, every day. Great. Just great. (Aziraphale puts his book down and takes a big breath and Crowley comes to attention. “Do you ever think,” he says, and Crowley can tell he’s been thinking about this for a long time, for a whole Wednesday, at least. “Do you ever think that perhaps this is an opportunity to - to do whatever it is you wanted?”) Set between seasons 1 and 2, canon-compliant with season 2.

Rating: M

One Wednesday in May Crowley and Aziraphale have a nasty fight, because Aziraphale is stubborn and bullheaded and absolutely infuriating. It’s entirely Aziraphale’s fault, of course. Even though it’s been nearly a year since the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t didn’t happen, and in that time, it’s been made crystal clear Heaven doesn’t want Aziraphale anymore,1 Aziraphale is still so concerned about what they might think. It chafes at Crowley like a poorly fitting hair-shirt.2 Crowley just wants Aziraphale to be his own angel, to think for himself. Crowley knows he does, somewhere in that fuzzy white head of his. He’s seen it hundreds of times. Like when they’d stopped Armageddon, together. Or when Aziraphale had given away his blasted sword all those years ago. It’s in there, the strong core of Aziraphale. He just won’t let it out. Which is where Crowley comes in.

They’d had a great evening. Crowley’s favorite kind of evening. One of the quiet ones, one of the - the them ones. Aziraphale had called him up around ten that morning and had said there was a new little sushi restaurant in Covent Garden he rather wanted to try, and was Crowley free that evening? Turned out, Crowley was. Crowley was pretty much free every evening. Unemployed and homeless, that’s what he was. Not that Aziraphale knew any of that. The restaurant had been a new one, blanketed with hanging plants dangling from the ceiling, creating a dense, thick green carpet. The lighting was dim enough to be comfortable and the wine decent enough, if it was improved with a miracle, and Aziraphale had actually moaned when he’d sampled his first piece of sashimi. Crowley had watched him fold a piece of sushi into his mouth, tongue first, and mused that, if he hadn’t thought it would’ve gotten dragged him down to Hell and punished, he could’ve suggested Hell add to their torture rosters.

Afterwards, Crowley drives Aziraphale back to the bookshop, and of course Aziraphale invites him in for another drink, and of course he accepts, because what else does he have to do for the rest of the evening? Find a new street to park the Bentley on until Aziraphale wants him again? Go to the park and hide in the bushes to hiss at unsuspecting couples?3 So he goes into the shop, and it’s as it always is, warmly lit, full of Aziraphale’s clutter and the smell of musty old books and Aziraphale, the angel’s scent swelling to fill the space like incense. It’s - cozy. Crowley drops to his place on the sofa, hollowed out over the years like an animal’s den to fit him perfectly, and if he happens to glance up and catch the faintest hint of a smile in Aziraphale’s eyes well, he doesn’t mention it and neither does the angel. They’re good at that, living in the margins. He had hoped that after they’d both been effectively fired, the two of them now firmly on their own side, he’d thought maybe Aziraphale would - well. No matter.4

So they start drinking, and Aziraphale pulls the chess board over and they play a few turns, but then they get distracted arguing about Sir Francis Dashwood, and somehow they get onto the topic of Heaven, and Crowley should know better, okay, he knows this is a fraught topic between the two of them, but there’s some infinitely stupid part of him - the part of him that’s always gotten him in trouble, the part that picks and picks at things, that wants to understand, to uncover - that doesn’t know when to let well enough alone.

Continue reading the first chapter at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55369603/chapters/140479633

#good omens #good omens fic #time loop!#ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale/crowley #my fic

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cosmic-comet-19 · 4 months

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The Stars to his Moon: Part 5

"...make sure you get Sirius' set, not mine..." the voice of James drifted after him. "Don't know why my bishops keep running away..."

Remus rolled his eyes, having volunteered to fetch a wizard chess set for James and Frank back down in the common room. The truth was, he wanted a ciggy in peace - he knew James couldn't stand the smell of them, so he took moments for himself every so often up in the dorm.

Casually pushing open the door, he spied Sirius' wizard chess perched on top of a precariously-stacked pile of books.

"Accio cigarette," he muttered, and a small tin box flew towards him from under his bed. Taking out two, Remys tucked one in his robes and one expertly between his lips.

"Want a light?" came a drawl beside him. Remus jumped, the fag almost falling from his lips.

Behind his curtain, Sirius sat crossed legged on Remus' bed. With a raised eyebrow, the latter twitched his own curtains open a few inches more.

"If you'd be so kind," he replied, curious. The Black heir clicked his fingers and the end of Remus' fag caught alight instantly. Taking a long drag, he fixed his eyes on Sirius, who suddenly avoided his gaze. Something crackled under Sirius' knee, and Remus waited, before clearing his throat.

"You ok?"

Barking out a laugh before he could stop himself, Sirius pulled out a quivering red letter, clearly desperate to be opened.

"My mother," Sirius explained unnecessarily, boredom masking the uncertainty in his voice. But Remus heard it all the same. Wordlessly, he flicked his wand toward the door, closing it softly. He met pale grey eyes, unknowingly betraying boyish fear so unlike the brash and confident flirt Remus knew.

"No way around it," he said steadfastly, and Remus shook his head.

"Ignore them. They don't know you."

"Remus-"

"They don't, Sirius! They are the worst excuse for parents I've heard of - and trust me, I've heard a lot."

Sirius sighed, then motioned to the cigarette Remus was intermittently puffing on.

"That any good?"

A grin tugging on his lips, Remys handed it over wordlessly. Thoughts about having corrupted the posh boy would have to wait, he told himself sternly.

"D'you want to be alone?" Remus ventured, knowing immediately that he would hate for Sirius to say yes. He didn't think he would...

"No." Sirius puffed out a small ring of smoke, coughing slightly. His eyes were raw and genuine, younger than Remus have ever seen them. "No. Just. Stay."

Remus' heart leapt, but he knew that's not how Sirius meant it. Still, he thought.

Quickly, Sirius ripped open the scarlet envelope, and the Howler rose into the air.

"How dare you disgrace the Noble and Most Pure House of Black!? Joining the Gryffindor quidditch team! Duelling with your brother! Befriending half breeds and blood traitors! Mudbloods! You will answer for this in July, mark my words, Sirius!"

After the Howler had screeched its final vile word, it shredded itself into a thousand blood-red pieces. Silence descended, but the instant Remus saw Sirius' blank, scared expression, he took his longest drag yet and interrupted the silence:

"So, your family are vile."

Despite himself, Sirius laughed, the unexpected amusement jarring.

"Didn't know you had it in you, Remmie," he drawled, Howler forgotten. Remus rolled his eyes.

"I hate that," he grumbled, watching the dark-haired boy carefully. Mischievously, Sirius smirked.

"Do you, Remmie? I think you quite like it, actually."

Rolling his eyes, Remus took another drag.

"Bet you'd like that," he replied, without thinking. Taken aback for a split second, Sirius smirked back at him, raising an eyebrow. The sight was so funny that Remus groaned.

"It is honestly a mystery to me how all these girls fall for you," he told him sarcastically. Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"I'll show you-"

But before he could finish that thought, the door burst open. A mess of curls and glasses entered the room, and Sirius leapt up off the bed, feeling slightly guilty. What for? he thought. "James!"

Casually, Remus scrolled over to open the window to let the smoke out. As he glanced back to the infamous duo, he caught sight of something new in Sirius' eyes.

#james potter #marauders #remus lupin #wolfstar #marauders era #sirius black #dead gay wizards #remus x sirius #grimmauld place

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akwolfgrl · 7 months

Text

My frist one piece fan fic, I hope it's good. Any feed back is welcome and wanted. I don't have any friends into this anime. Part 1 LFT

Zoro rested his back against the wall of the galley, his arms crossed over his chest as observed their newest member, the blond, had been of help during arlong park battle. His kicks a powerful weapon of destruction. His flexibility and agility, Zoro couldn't move that way. He couldn't help but wonder if the cook could put that to good use in the bedroom.

"I'm surprised at how good smells in here," Zoro couldn't resist the need to tease the blond.

"Dinners not ready yet, if you want to add your likes and dislikes the list is the table, if your hare to steal a bite you can think fucking again swordsmen, I won't hesitate to kick you out literally," He hadn't even bothered to turn around, cigarette smoke filled the air above his head.

Zoro pushed himself off the wall and wandered over the table, a dark blue notebook and a blue feathered pen. Zoro took a seat and flipped through the book until he found his name. There wasn't much on there, just the fact he liked sake. Zoro hadn't expected the prissy cook to go this far in making sure the crew was well fed, once again Luffy somehow knew what he was doing.

"Oi, shit cook whatcha making?" Zoro asked as he filled out the notebook.

"Fuck off," Cook swore at at beofre replying to his answer. "I'm making bouillabaisse with rouille, and chocolate souffle for dessert,"

"First what the fuck is a what ever said, I don't think that will be enough for Luffy, I don't like chocolate so skip mine," Zoro thought chocolate was far to sweet for his liking. He didn't know what souffle was, to be honest.

"Bouillabaisse is a fishmen fish stew, rouille is just something that goes on top of the crusty bread you use to dip and soak up the stew with. I saw how much Luffy eats and I have a leg of lamb and roast chicken in the oven for him. No chocolate? Fuck your even weirder then I thought marimo, but that's easy to fix, what sounds better fruit or chesse?" Sanji asked.

"Chi, whatever curly brows, witch ever goes good with sake," Zoro replied, looking up at the blond man, what he wouldn't give to have his thighs wrapped around his head.

"Hmm, let me check something," The man stepped away from the stove and took a look into the fridge. Zoro got a great view of simmer man perfect ass he bent over to dig threw the fridge. "Cheese it is, a nice sharp chess will pair well with the sake on hand, that is if you didn't drink all!"

"I can't drink it all when you lock it up!" Zoro argued back, he enjoyed the banter between them. Sanji may be snobby, prissy and annoying but he was also strong, loud mouthed and swore like any good sailor worth their salt.

"Good that means it's working, are you done bugging me yet?" The cook asked, finally turning back to glare at him.

Zoro grinned and leaned up his hands behind his head. "I'm just getting comfortable, if you got a problem with that do something about it, but I have one last question for you," Zoro watched as Sanji stalked towards him cigarette smoke trailing behind him.

"And what's that?"

"Can you fuck as good as you fight?"

#fanfic #one piece #zoro x sanji #sanji #zoro #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #lust filled thoughts

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cboffshore · 5 months

Text

hi everyone. I come bearing IICT(OSC) insider knowledge, hints, and memes.

bc spoilers: everything else is under the cut. Do not proceed before you read the fic. Unless you like having twists untwisted in advance. That's on you.

(one day I wanna try my hand at redrawing/tracing this Gayle meme to be Nya, but that's neither here nor there.)

If I ever do any super, super in-depth analysis of this work, it's not happening today, as I'm fighting a weather migraine and longform ideas are NOT my friends. However, I did want to make a few fun bonus notes. These aren't bulleted bc mobile browser formatting.

The weapon in the escape scene was only originally supposed to be a rusty pipe (loosely inspired by a piece of Fall Out Boy promo art used on "What a Time To Be Alive", and yes I KNOW Pete has a baseball bat. I said LOOSELY.) I waffled on the chain element for a LONG time. However, on Halloween, Han doodled this for Trick or Treat asks, and that was enough to make me commit to the idea. @spinjitsuburst: I have no idea if you've read this fic or not, but I never did properly tell you how helpful that was. (And none of that is a spoiler if you do go read it, just turn back now and you'll be safe.)

The Incense Gambit is a real chess strategy; however, we don't call it that. The actual move set is called the Bongcloud Attack, which I learned about when I was doing chess research for this fic. I started out by trying to learn chess online, and at some point, I decided it would be fun to have Nya win with a recognizably stupid move set. Knowing very little about chess at that point (having lost to most of the bots and people I played), I Googled a list of joke chess openers and picked the one that made me laugh the hardest. The Mighty Donut was in second place, but that requires both players to cooperate, so that wouldn't have worked. Not wanting to write "what, you've never heard of the Bongcloud Attack?" as a dialogue line, I switched the name to Incense Gambit both as a reference to smoke and for the fact that "incense" also means "to anger." I should also disclose that one of my few chess wins happened when I USED the Bongcloud, which... that's not normal.

In my first outline, the REAL Landon was originally supposed to set off the escape sequence. Stopping Nya was supposed to be pure luck/desperation on his part, followed by an encounter with Nadakhan where I would've been able to cram in a small analysis of how he treats his crew members. It didn't work out and I never wrote it, but there were secret passageways involved, and it could've been fun if I'd gotten it to work. I still think that bringing the shapeshifting back was the wiser choice, though.

I've already gotten two separate comments that, to different degrees, claim this would have worked as a plausible canon installment. Which is good! The whole point of this is to fill the gaps in her experience, so hearing that this seems believable is always lovely.

If you reread c5, take note of who resets the board each time. Without realizing it, I assigned that duty to whoever feels more strongly that they are controlling the situation at that point.

The wine vs tea thing I hinted at in a few past posts: both beverages are written as symbols of how much Nadakhan is present in a given scene. Wine only appears if he's directly visible - things like the chess sequence and in the dream, where I use wine to describe the air. Tea, however, only appears if Nya can't see him, but he's still influencing the events. These include his gloves smelling like black tea when Nya is blindfolded, the presence of tea on the meal tray, and - of course - the tea she uses as a weapon in the escape sequence.

Speaking of the escape sequence, I made this meme VERY early on and I still find it stupid funny:

#lila speaks #december wip rambles #ninjago skybound #OSSAS tag #there might be more analysis funtime in the future idk

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honeycrashed · 9 months

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i want to hear the chess hcs!!!!

OH MAN. HOLD ON.

OKAY! If you're like a chess nerd and expected me to list down their favorite opening moves and stuff I'm so sorry I don't know the names. "Horsie go hehe and horsie go haha" , "average NPC move" , "OPEN UP THE GATES!!" is what I call some of the opening moves. I refuse to learn the names.

also like I'm a pretty mid chess player but I have some silly little headcanons for all stars anyways!

I like to think that all stars are all decent at chess and have a good win-loss ratio, generally understanding how the game works and stuff.

Kidou: He's literally the strategist of the field did you expect me to come up here and say yes Kidou Yuuto genius playmaker is bad at chess. that would be funny but no.

Instead, he always loses to Endou, no matter what. He often tries to bait Endou but Endou always missed the bait and just goes for the more obvious choices, revealing holes in Kidou's moves. it's very frustrating to Kidou but he appreciates Endou showing the faults in his plays, Even if Endou is unaware of it.

fave to go against:

-Atsuya, his fast-paced high-risks playstyle intrigues Kidou and he wants to see how fast he can keep up with him.

-Gouenji, Kidou likes messing with him <3

Gouenji : Exception on the "win-loss ratio"; Overthinking too much in matches, which usually causes the opponent to find a simpler solution to his convoluted plan. He was so sure that his delicate process would work and if he were able to do it it would've looked so cool (Note that his exception only counts when playing against all stars/people he knows well. he still overthinks but his overthinking pays off most of the time.)

Gouenji likes to take his time making his moves which makes it tougher when they decide to do blitz rounds, he hates blitz rounds he always gets very shaky afterwards.(Part of the reason they tend not to do blitz rounds unless Gouenji insists on it or its Atsuya VS Kidou)

fave to go against:

-Kazemaru, Kazemaru doesn't take chess too seriously until it's a blitz match.

-Shirou, their playstyles match very well with one another

Endou : Exception on the "General understanding of the game"; Endou doesn't understand and chess doesn't understand him either. He has sketches of the chess moves he could make on the side since he's easy to forget what moves the pieces make. He has a general idea of it but it still manages to slip past his mind.

Despite this he has never lost against all Kidou ever, which makes him the unofficial reigning champion.

fave to go against:

-Kidou. he finds it funny how frustrated Kidou gets when playing with him, even if he is very lost on how to play.

He just loves it when All stars overthink their moves against Endou and Endou ends up winning, he finds it very funny and it's the reason he hadn't given up on understanding chess yet.

Atsuya: fuckieinfnekl ate the chess pieces /j

Genuinely very good at the game, loves blitz matches the most. Likes to play fast and swift, making very risky moves in most cases. Against Kidou he slows down a little to think about his moves more, One time the two got locked in a 3hr match, having to call it off for the day since it was getting late, but continuing it first thing in the morning.

fave to go against:

-Kidou, same reason as Kidou. He wants to see how fast Kidou can keep up with him, often taunting that he can't. it's all for fun though, is what they say, but the room smells like someone's going to die whenever they're against each other.

-Kazemaru, While Kazemaru CAN keep up with the speed, Kazemaru can't keep up with the moves at all times unlike Kidou. Atsuya still enjoys playing against him anyways.

Refuses to go against anyone but Kidou and Kazemaru.

Shirou: also very good, but he prefers slower games as opposed to Atsuya's fast-paced playstyle. Also less likely to take more risks depending on how the match is going.

faves to go against:

-Endou: his light-hearted playstyles make for calm matches, Shirou likes teaching Endou over and over again on how to play chess and is generally very patient with him.

-Gouenji: the right amount of pressure when being put against someone to play chess, otherwise Atsuya goes against them/Instructs Shirou on what to do.

Kazemaru: Most of the time just watches everyone else play while tallying up the scores/moves, But when he does play he's pretty flexible for all styles of playing. He loves playing blitz the most but doesn't mind slowing down everyone once and a while.

faves to go against:

-Atsuya: He likes the challenge Atsuya brings by making really risky moves and having to make up his mind on a move against it in quick successions.

-Endou: He likes attempting to find out what's going on in that brain of his, and while most of the time he succeeds against Endou, he never succeeds on finding his thought process.

#mammon asks!#ina11 hcs #all stars posting #please ask me my all stars hcs on things no matter how mundane you think it is #ive probably thought of that situation with all stars for several weeks and would do it again most likely #inazuma eleven #kidou yuuto #endou mamoru #gouenji shuuya #kazemaru ichirouta #fubuki shirou #fubuki atsuya

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fandomtherapy44 · 8 months

Text

castiel x reader

Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Winchester. The sister Of Sam and Dean. We will be starting from season four since sadly we did not get Misha Collins as Castiel throughout the whole series. It will start off as a friendship, but it will grow more as the series goes on. I will be skipping some episodes even though they are great episodes they do not push the story forward. I am so excited to get to write this since they are not many Castiel X reader stories out there. Okay without further due Love War & Grace enjoy the Story.

Paring: Castiel X Reader

Word count: 3,330 words

Warnings: Some language, Typical Supernatural violence, Spoilers for season four of Supernatural, Reader gets hurt

Chapter 9: On The Head of a Pin

POV:Y/n

Another person died, another life lost to this stupid war between things, and a possible coming of Satan that theoretically should not even be real! And she's dead because of me. I keep on thinking about this on repeat. That I'm not even paying attention to the tense conversation going on between my two brothers. “Y/n did you hear me?�� Sam asked me from looking at the rear-view mirror. My eyes were starting to tear up from me staring at the window without blinking and things were becoming blurry. “Huh? What?” He kind of huffs.

“I said Ruby will meet us outside Cheyenne. She's been tracking some leads. I know she's not exactly on your Guys Christmas list, but if she can help us get to Lilith—” Of course it's Ruby. My favorite person along with Alice from Hell-land. “Look Sam I couldn't really give a rat's ass. If you work with her or not. "I said back tired of this bullshit because of Ruby. “I agree with her.” Dean said as he looked back at me nodding letting me know he was standing with me. “What's your guy's problem?” “Pamela didn't want anything to do with this and we dragged her back into it, Sam. I did.” I said back at him quickly, getting madder at myself and slowed down thinking about my words.

“She knew what was at stake.” Sam responded and, in that moment, I really just wanted to scream. “” She knew what was at stake.” you know what, fuck off Sam a person should not have to practically die every time they help us, we’re doing such a damn good job! So, Pam dying was totally not in vain.” I finished with a tear running down my face. Both boys look at each other than at me. “Y/n-” “I'm so tired of burying friends Guys.” “Look, we catch a fresh trail—” Sam said, trying to move on. “And we follow it, we know. Like we said, we’re just—we’re just getting tired.” Dean answered for us. “Well, get angry.” Sam responded. Oh, I'm basically the hulk at this point.

We get our room keys and all I want to do is get drunk and cry myself to sleep but I guess someone else had a different Idea. “Ah, Home crappy home” Dean said dis heartedly flipping on the lights. Just once it would be nice to have a room that didn't look and smell like it was made by a drunk guy who hadn’t showered in three days. When the lights come on their standing is Cas and my bestie Uriel. “Winchesters” Uriel said with a hint of disgust. “Oh, come on.” Dean said in return. "You are needed.” Needed really, we can’t ever catch a break huh? “Needed? We just got back from needed.” Dean said standing up for us while I was trying to keep myself from going full Winchester on Uriel. “Now, you mind your tone with me.” Well, I tried.

“No, you mind your damn tone with us.” I said, stepping up to Uriel. “We just got back from Pamela's funeral.” Sam said adding in to drive the fact into these Angels that a life was just lost for their stupid war. I kept it going. “Pamela. You know, psychic Pamela? You remember her. Cas, you remember her. You burned her eyes out. Remember that? Good times. Yeah, then she died saving one of your precious seals. So maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces for five freaking minutes!” I know Cas didn't mean for that to happen but in that minute all I saw was red and I was ready to start my own war.

“We raised your brother out of hell for our purposes.” Dean stepped next to us. “Yeah, what were those again? What exactly did you want from me?” “Start with gratitude.” Ok I'm about to go WWE on him. “Dean, we know this is difficult to understand.” Cas said to him trying to reason with him. “And we—” Uriel looked at Cas in a very weird way and he looked back. “—don't care. Now, seven angels have been murdered, all of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight.” Uriel finished in a very serious voice. Wait Angels being murdered dammit now I got to care for Cas's sake now if it was just Uriel, I could live with that. “Demons? How they doing it?” Dean questioned and how do we know it was demons I mean I guess it makes sense, but could they be that careless and dumb never mind, Ruby is one of them.

“We don't know.” “I'm sorry, but what do you want us to do about it? I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?” Sam said to them, and he was right, we are just humans. “We can handle the demons, thank you very much.” God I just want to smack that smug look off his face. “Once we find whoever it is.” Cas said, diffusing the tension. “Ha So you need our help hunting a demon? Now that’s funny” I said walking closer to Uriel. "Not quite. We have Alastair.” Cas said, looking at me. “Great. He should be able to name your trigger man.” Dean said to them hinting that they don't need us. “But he won't talk. Alastair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an impasse.” Okay so what do they need?

“Yeah, well, he's like a black belt in torture. I mean, you guys are out of your league.” Dean said to them. “That's why we've come to his student. You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got.” Uriel finished and I am filled with more rage first this angel insults me and now he wants my brother to do torture and if he does, I know it will torture his own soul. “Dean, you are our best hope.” Cas said to him pleading I know he would not be asking this if Uriel was not here. “No. No way. You can't ask me to do this, Cas. Not this.” Uriel walks up to him, and I know what he is about to do so I grab Dean’s hand. “Who said anything about asking?” And we disappear.

We drop into this room and Uriel comes barking at me. “How dare you go against the direct order of God you cockroach.” “How dare you think I would let you kidnap my brother and force him to do this you chicken wings.” I said getting right back in his face. Cas comes in between the two of us.”Y/n Will stay.” “No, she will not.” “I'll just walk back here every time, Uriel, so either leave me alone or you spend the whole night trying to get rid of me your choice.” I said standing victoriously. Dean did not say anything; he was too distracted by the room.

“This devil's trap is old Enochian. He's bound completely.” Cas said about what Alastair was in trapped by. “Fascinating.” Dean said, walking away. “Where's the door? Come on Y/n.” “Where are you going?” Cas questions. “Hitch back to Cheyenne, thank you very much.” We start to walk but Uriel blocks us. “Angels are dying, boy.” “Everybody's dying these days. And hey, I get it. You're all-powerful. You can make me do whatever you want. But you can't make me do this.”

“This is too much to ask, I know. But we have to ask it.” I don’t know what is up with Cas, but I know he does not want this as much as us. “We want to talk to Cas alone.” Dean said, turning to Uriel. “I think I'll go seek revelation. We might have some further orders.” “Well, get some donuts while you're out.” Dean said back to him. “Ah, this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy.” Before he leaves, he gives me a glare. And I give him the middle finger.

“You guys don't walk enough. You're gonna get flabby.” Dean jokes. “You know, I'm starting to think Junkless has a better sense of humor than you do.” He said referring to Cas. “Uriel's the funniest angel in the garrison. Ask anyone.” Wow, they really need to get some basic cable tv. “Tell Uriel, or whoever...you do not want me doing this, trust me.” Dean asked, pleading with Cas. “Want it, no. But I have been told we need it.” Told? “You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out.” “For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this.” “Dean, you don’t have to do this.” I told him with my whole heart. “Yes, I do Y/n not just for the Angels but for myself I'll be okay.” He said hugging me and kissed my head. He let’s go and walks towards the torture table.

Dean has been locked in the room with Alistair for about thirty minutes and all Cas and I have been hearing moans of pain. I break the silence. “What's going on, Cas? Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?” He looks at me like he is a little ashamed. “My superiors have begun to question my sympathies.” “Your sympathies? What the fuck does that even mean?” “I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You. They feel I've begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgment.” I go to sit on the big middle table and pat the side to me for him to sit. And he does. “Look Cas that sympathy that you feel is good, it means that you have your own thoughts and feelings. It is what makes you well you. Also screw Uriel and every other Angel like him. And well I wouldn't be friends with you if you weren’t.”

He gives me a warm smile and our hands are right next together and our pinkies are almost touching. Just then the lights explode, and we jump off the table and their standing is Anna. “Anna.” “Hello, Castiel, Y/n.” Anna said to us. I'm surprised she’s not dust condensing the last time we saw her she exploded in light. “Your human body—” “It was destroyed, I know. But I guess I'm sentimental. Called in some old favors and…” She gestured to her body. Alistair screams louder and we all look to the door. “You shouldn't be here. We still have orders to kill you.” Cas said to Anna with an intense look. “Somehow, I don't think you'll try. Where's Uriel?” “He went to receive revelation.” “Right.” “Why are you letting Dean do this?” she asked Cas with emotion.

“He's doing God's work.” He responded back I didn’t say anything I wanted to see what he would say. “Torturing? That's God's work? Stop him, Cas, please. Before you ruin the one real weapon you have.” She was right but Cas had to see that for himself. “Who are we to question the will of God?” “Unless this isn't his will.” “Then where do the orders come from?” “I don't know. One of our superiors, maybe, but not him.” “These orders are wrong, and you know it. But you can do the right thing. You're afraid, Cas. I was too. But together, we can still— “She goes to touch his hand, but he pulls away.

“Together?” He yanks away his hand. “I am nothing like you. You fell. Go.” Dammit Cas. “Cas.” “Go.” Anna looks at me and we both nod at each other in general respect and she vanishes. Cas looks pissed. “She’s right Cas do you really truly believe this is the will of the loving father you believe so much in.” “Why can't it be! “He raised his voice at me, and I wanted to yell back but instead I recognized his voice and how there was pain in it. I start to lift my shirt and show Cas. “Why are you doing that?” “Because I want to show you what happens when you have blind faith in something, sometimes it doesn't always be there for you.” I show him my scar.

“This is from when I was thirteen my brothers were at some sleepover and my dad thought it would be a good idea to go on a hunt when he was coming off a drunken bender and I got slashed by a werewolf was close to death, but he had enough conscience to call nine one one. I just so wanted to spend time with him, so I ran into that forest without hesitation with no plan. The boys don’t even know I didn’t want them to know the only people who do are my joke of a father, Bobby, and well now you. And all this is to tell you is to trust yourself and make sure what you're ever doing is for yourself and no one else."

I finish with a small smile. We stare at each other for a second before we start to hear grunts from the room. We burst and Dean is getting the shit kicked out of him of a supposed to be strung up Alistair. “Dean!” Alistair throws him to the ground and goes to check on him when Cas goes to fight Alistair and he wasn’t moving. I start to hear chanting and I look to see Cas getting his ass latined by Alistair. So, I come up behind and throw him off. He sets his sights on me. He goes after me, and I dodge and go to punch him, but he catches my hand and twisted it. “Ahh” I am brought down to my knees by the pain.

“After I kill your Angel boyfriend and your favorite brother I will do ten fold to you what he did to me.” I hear a crack and I scream. “Wow you've got strong bones, it looks like just a sprang, how about we make it broken.” “Get the Hell away from my sister,” It was Sam.

“Stupid pet tricks.” He said to Sam as he pushed him against the wall. “Who's murdering the angels? How are they doing it?” “You think I'm gonna tell you?” “Yeah, I do. "Sam twists his hand. Alastair's eyes roll white, and he chokes. And I watch in horror. “How are the demons killing angels?” “I don't know.” “Right.” “It's not us. We're not doing it.” “I don't believe you.” “Lilith is not behind this. She wouldn't kill seven angels. Oh, she'd kill a hundred, a thousand.” Sam stopped choking him. “Oh, go ahead. Send me back, if you can.” “I'm stronger than that now. Now I can kill.” Excuse me? I watch as gold light flares inside Alastair as he screams. Alastair's host collapses, dead.

“There you go, now go very easy on it and take pain meds as needed.” The nurse was explaining how to take care of my wrist as if I hadn’t sprung it a billion times, but she doesn’t know that. “How did you do that again?” “Uh, bike accident I’m very clumsy.” “Yeah, you might want to stay off the bike.” “Yup you are totally right, thanks again.” I get up and walk out of the little room I was in.

Knock knock “Hey how’s he doing?” I ask Sam as if I didn’t know the answer. “Uh good as you can be on a breathing tube how about you?” “Well Alistair was right about one thing; it was just a sprang guess I do have strong bones.” I said trying to lighten the mood as much as possible. I notice that Sam is not really looking at me but behind me. It was Cas walking away, Sam and I followed.

“Sam—” “Get in there and heal him. Miracle. Now.” “I can't.” “What do you mean You and Uriel put him in there— “I said to him. “No.” “—because you can't keep a simple devil's trap together.” Sam was right. “I don't know what happened. That trap...it shouldn't have broken. I am sorry.” I know he was. “This whole thing was pointless. You understand that? The demons aren't doing the hits. Something else is killing your soldiers.” “Perhaps Alastair was lying.” Cas said, trying to justify in a way what just happened. “No, he wasn't.” Sam walks back to Dean with that. “Remember what I said Cas trust yourself.” I linger for Second looking at him and walk back to Dean.

Sam and I are now just waiting for Dean to wake up and I realize I should probably call Bobby and tell him what happened, but I don’t have my phone neither does Sam we were too concerned about getting Dean to the ER. “Uh, can I have the keys I need to get the phones.” “Here, be careful.” Sam called out to me as I was walking out the room “Always am.”

I walk into the elevator down into the car garage and the lights start to flicker. Note to self-check for ghost readings when you get back up. I walk to the car about to open the door when I see a reflection of Uriel. “It’s all because of you!” I turn around and he looks pissed more than usual. “What are you talking about Uriel?” He was getting closer. “Ever since he’s met you, he has been disobedient!” “Woah this is about Cas! for the last time he his not your fucking Dog!” He then hits me down. “He was a loyal soldier then he met you little slut.” I kicked him up.

“You can call me whatever you want but Cas. Punch Is. Punch Not. Punch A. Punch Dog.” He grabs my hand. “Ah I see a sprained wrist, why don’t I heal it for you.” He slowly twists it until it breaks. “AHHH!!!” “Aww that hurts huh this could have all been avoided if you had left him alone. He could have helped me.” “What … are … you…talking … about.” I said between bloody breaths. “You killed the angels, didn’t you?” “Yeah, I did and I'm about to add one small stupid human to the list. I'll just tell Cas you were killed by a demon. He’ll be sad but hopefully he can turn that into bloodlust.” He is about to stab me but instead he is. It’s Cas, Uriel drops. “Oh Y/n I'm so sorry.” I look up and go running into his arms and hug him tight. “I thought… I thought I was dead.” He hugged me back.

We walked back into the hospital, and I was lipping. “Oh my gosh did you get on a motorbike!” It was the nurse from before. “Yeah, something like that.” They took me to a room and Cas looked worried and I gave him a smile.

“What the Hell, so Uriel huh.” It was Sam. “Yeah he was secretly for team apocalypse if not for Cas I would-.” “Well, you're not you're still my annoying little sis right” “Yeah” “I should probably go tell Dean and hope he doesn't freak.” “Oh, come on Sam he is Dean Winchester he is definitely going to freak.” We both laugh. “You'll be, ok? For a few minutes.” “I'll be fine.” He gives me his goofy smile and walks away. Cas walks in.

“Hey.” “Hi.” “How are you doing?” He asked me. “Oh good, the strong pain meds really help.” He looked sad. “Look, this wasn’t your fault.” “Yes, it is I should have seen-” “You couldn't have seen anything. I would rather have a hundred broken wrists than not stand up for you” “You shouldn't have too” “But I will always for the people I care about.”

Hey everyone, hope you all are having a good day and that you enjoyed this chapter! I think that was our first hug of many with Cas. So, the next episode is it’s a terrible life which should be fun to write a different version of Y/n. Also, I am going to post a playlist for y/n on Spotify to add to the story so listen if you like!

#castiel x reader #castiel #castiel x y/n #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #team free will #spnfandom #supernatural #Supernatural Season 4 #castiel x you #Castiel x reader series masterlist #bobby singer #bobby spn #cas spn #cas x reader #cas x y/n #cas masterlist

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