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vizowrites · 3 years

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My BlitzStrike Twins: Headcanons and Shenanigans~ [probably with a bit of my M&M kids thrown in just for fun]

So today I got a couple of fantastic asks about Blitz and Striker as parents, and since there seemed to be a pretty positive response to them--and because @helluva-simp is amazing and encouraged me to be brave enough to write this up--I thought I’d go ahead and make a full post of my headcanons for these two little devils. I really do love the hell out of them and hope you guys enjoy hearing about them too!! <3 <3

Twist’s and Ty’s full names are Twister and Typhoon but literally nobody calls them by their full names ever so they like to make the joke of “the ‘-er’ and the ‘-phoon’ are silent”

Ty is actually the older of the two [though not by much] but everyone thinks that Twist is because his name is always called first. It’s always “Twist and Ty” [or just collectively “Twist-Ty”] instead of “Ty and Twist”. Ty honestly doesn’t mind that much as far as following after his brother goes, just don’t make the mistake of trying to label him as the younger of the two. There are a lot of things Ty’s perfectly content to let Twist take the lead in, but having the title of “the older twin” is just going too far.

Twist and Ty are mirror twins, meaning that they’re mostly identical except for a few key things: 1. Twist is left handed and Ty is right handed, 2. they both have heterochromia but Twist’s eyes are Left: Red | Right: Green-Gold whereas Ty’s eyes are Left: Green-Gold | Right: Red, 3. Twist has a birthmark on his right hand and Ty has his birthmark on his left hand--and yes when you put the two marks together, they form a design not unlike the heart shaped one on Blitz’s forehead :)

Both of the twins are incredibly agile, but Twist is faster and Ty is more flexible

Striker affectionately calls Twist “Whirlwind” because of said fastness

Blitz affectionately calls Ty “Noodle” because of said flexibility

.....Though it should be noted that it’s not all fun and games because Twist is CONSTANTLY crashing into things or tripping over his own two feet from going too fast, and Ty is so flexible that he’s able to contort himself into positions that honestly make both of his parents throw up a little in their mouths with the split-second panic of “OH GOD OUR BABY WAS BORN WITHOUT BONES!!” DX DX They’re both usually just fine tho!! :D

As noted in an earlier post--but I want to say it here too--Twist’s first word was “Bang!” and Ty’s first word was “Fuck!” Twist was the first one to talk, though, and it made Striker and Blitz second guess the context of his first word by the time Ty said his. XD

Another thing that was noted in another post but I want to put it here too is that Twist and Ty have incredibly high self esteem and both Striker and Blitz wouldn’t have it any other way

Twist is dyslexic and so gets easily frustrated when he has to read a book, but he love love LOVES the hell out of stories.....and so Ty is almost constantly making up random stories to tell him

This actually also works out well in Ty’s favor because Ty’s attention span is about as short as Blitz’s patience and he has a lot more fun telling stories than he does sitting still long enough to read the ones that other people made up unless it’s a book about something he’s reeeeeeally interested in

It’s also made Ty hella good at bullshitting on the fly, which I think most of the older/adult members of his family wish he was a lot less convincing at

Twist knows how to lie and is a natural at acting, but his flair for the over-dramatics tends to give him a way a lot easier than his twin

They both have what I’m calling a “hierarchy of obedience” within their family which really translates into a range of “eh I can think about maybe listening to this person sometimes” to “oh SHIT I need to listen to this person 5 fucking minutes ago”. For Twist, his hierarchy of obedience is: Millie --> Blitz --> Striker --> Loona --> Moxxie. For Ty, his hierarchy of obedience is: Loona --> Millie --> Blitz --> Striker.....and Moxxie doesn’t even make the list for him because honestly I’m pretty sure Ty just naturally tunes him out most of the time and not even fully on purpose. As he puts it: “You just have one of those voices”. XD

Ty can sleep literally anywhere and on anything. I’m pretty sure there have been mornings where Blitz and Striker have to play the game of 'Where the hell is my kid??' because they THOUGHT that he went to sleep in his bed like their other child did but NOPE they go into their room in the morning to get them out of bed and are just like, “.....Twist where the hell is your brother??” and Twist just gives an innocent shrug and says, “I don’t know--probably on the roof or something.” u3u and goes out into the kitchen to make himself breakfast--and then two seconds later Blitz and Striker hear him calling out “NEVER MIND! HE’S IN THE OVEN!!” and that starts off a whole new kind of panic because they know damn well that Twist’s favorite thing to have for breakfast is cinnamon rolls XD

Twist’s laughter is infectious--this really cute witch-like cackling that just bubbles out of him in the most adorably genuine way when he’s that delighted about someting

Ty does this adorable thing where--when he sticks his tongue out at someone--he flicks it in a very snake-like fashion and even gives the tiniest of hisses in lieu of a raspberry when he does it

Ty also manages to twist himself into the most uncomfortable-looking positions when he sleeps but rest assured, he’s never been more comfy

Twist’s tail never stays still. It is constaintly flicking to and fro, back and forth, swishing and swirling like a cat’s tail, and he loves flicking it in front of people’s faces to get their attention

Twist in general doesn’t really stay still very often but the one time he did was when Ty broke his arm--and then he spent almost every moment of the day and night plastered to his side because he knew it was driving Ty crazy not being as mobile as he usually is while having to wear a cast

The twins really don’t ever go that far apart from each other. If you look and only see the one, you can rest assured that the other one is around somewhere nearby and it’s probably not a good sign for you if you can only see the one.

Ty is much more of a biter when it comes to self-defense and Twist always goes straight to using his claws

Twist is the outwardly more protective twin and is vicious with his words when defending his brother. He will force every last ounce of moisture out of your body from how hard he makes you cry.

Ty, on the other hand, will fuck you up hard physically if you try to hurt his twin--and Lucifer himself would not be able to save you if you actually do hurt his twin

As they get older, and their sexualities and gender develop and grow, Twist would discover that he’s a nonbinary he/they homosexual panromantic and Ty would discover that he’s a genderfluid he/she pansexual homoromantic

The above being said, both Twist and Ty wholeheartedly say “fuck you and your gender norms” from a very young age and well into their teenage and adult years, with Twist enjoying painting his nails and Ty carrying all of his stuff around in a purse--and they both have a preference for wearing high heeled shoes [Ty because he just likes being tall in general and Twist because he likes being specifically taller than his parents because it drives them crazy XD]

Twist and Ty’s best friend is “Missi” [Moxxie and Millie’s eldest daughter, Missile] and she’s honestly an absolute hero for putting up with as many of their shenanigans as she does

Whenever they go out on family outings, Twist is that kid who just NEVER wants to leave--and so Blitz usually, after spending ten minutes of trying to get him in the damn van and Striker even using his Dad Tone (TM) and that not working, will just be like, “Alright kiddo, I tried playing nice. You asked for this.” And he puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles with a, “Loona Sweetie? Fetch.” >3 And Loona gets the BIGGEST grin on her face and Twist gets the biggest “oh shit I’m so fucking screwed” look on his face and Ty--who’s honestly probably very awkwardly coiled up in Striker’s arms because after a long day of family fun he’s tired af and decided that he doesn’t want to use his limbs anymore--just kind of looks over at his twin and says, “I believe in you, but also maybe try to run faster than last time” u3u

I think that they would both love their Auntie Barbie a lot and she would have soooooooo much fun teaching them different circus tricks--especially how to yeet each other back and forth on the trapeze XD

I also think that their Auntie Barbie would really love just how close they are.....and probably inspire her to make up for lost time in her relationship with her own twin too

For some reason I can’t shake the thought of the twins being great at acapella and I have no idea why but I’m also ttly here for it XD

In school, I feel like Twist’s favorite class would be Art [he loves to paint and happily makes all kinds of messes with his “expressing creativity”] and Ty’s favorite class would be P.E./Gym [because he loves testing the limits of his physical body]

Family game nights are always fun in their household because usually what happens is Twist and Ty team up against Blitz and Striker, and while they’re in the middle of duking it out, Loona ends up getting a monopoly on every street and is just like, “Pay up fuckers.” u3u

Moxxie and Millie both love and hate babysitting for the twins because on the one hand, they love them to pieces and love seeing how well they get along with their three kids, but on the other hand.....the twins keep finding Millie’s strap on and putting it on their middle child [Mark]’s head and calling him a “cockicorn” XD

Ty’s favorite food is ramen noodles and Twist spent three weeks [and probably set their kitchen on fire at least twice] learning how to make them with JUST the right flavor profile that he knows his brother likes the best

While I think both of the twins know that they can talk to their dads about anything, I think that they still keep their most personal thoughts reserved only to themselves and each other

Twist’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the flashy ‘sharp and pointy’ kind whereas Ty’s favorite type of weaponry tends to be more of the aggressive ‘point and shoot’ kind. However I honestly kind of think that in terms of what they’d use themselves in the field, Twist’s primary weapon of choice would be a whip [though he would definitely have some throwing knives and handheld revolvers in his back pocket too] and Ty’s primary weapon of choice is honestly poisons. Assume that everything this kid has that he throws at you--be it a knife or a bullet or even a fucking cannonball--is poisoned somehow.

They both definitely play wrestle like Blitz and Barbie did as kids.....and just like Blitz and Barbie, they also get their horns tangled together more than once and need to have someone come rescue them. There’s almost always a photo taken that gets posted to Voxtigram first tho. XD

There are plenty more headcanons where this came from but I feel like this is already waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too fucking long so I’m going to go ahead and stop here for tonight!! If you guys are interested in hearing more about these two, please please please feel free to let me know and I’d be happy to write up a Part 2 to this, or just overall write up a quick little oneshot with them in it, or if you want to send me specific questions about them that I can answer, feel free to do so!! Thanks so much again and I hope you guys have as much fun reading these as I did writing them up!! <3 <3

#vizowritesheadcanons #BlitzStrike twins #ocs: Twist and Ty #BlitzStrike #Striker x Blitzo #Blitzo x Striker #Helluva Boss AU where Blitz and Striker are parents #I.M.P. family fun #kid AU

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hansoulo · 4 years

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toccare

Pairing: The Mandalorian/f!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: cursing, mando’s kind of an ass but he’s old and his back hurts so we’ll cut him some slack, Touching, Tension, Drama, Spicy Stuff (not anything too spicy tho)

Rating: T for the aforementioned spiciness

Word Count: 2.5k

Gift Credit: gif by @/doortotomorrow

A/N: here it is!!! my mando massage fic. if enough people yell at me i’ll entertain the idea of a part 2. for science. also this probably isn’t even his bed but whatever!!! canon has no consequence in this household!!

“Mando,” you called out to him, “Are you alright?”

A grunt, barely audible from beneath his helmet. You pushed away from the console, standing in the cockpit and turning towards where he sat in the pilot seat. Mando didn’t turn his head away from the front viewport but he stiffened slightly at your proximity, his shoulders tense and his hands tight around the ship controls. He was always so… wound up. Some might call it vigilance, but you preferred telling him he had a stick up his ass. Right now, he had a whole forest.

You reached to rest your hand on the pauldron of his beskar, fingertips only barely grazing steel before a firm grip was locked around your arm. Soft leather pressed against the underside of your wrist, his hold unrelenting and silent. He still hadn’t looked back at you. Stubborn. Quiet and stubborn.

You pulled away - although you knew you were only able to because he let go. Heaving a dramatic sigh, you shook your head and flopped back down into the chair. So the walking tin can didn’t want to talk. Fine. Maker knows he barely spoke anyways. Still, he could at least tell you what was wrong. Not that- not that you cared. About him. No. It’s just that when he was in a bad way, like he’d been for the past few days - he didn’t exactly lend himself to good company. It just made for an unpleasant time, is all. You didn’t care.

——-

Another groan, deep and heavy as the Mandalorian stood up from the pilot’s seat. His movements were slow and strangely stiff, a far cry from his usual posture. You imagined a rusty droid, unoiled and worn from years of use, and the image prompted a laugh to bubble up in your throat before you silenced it with a hand over your mouth. Apparently it wasn’t quick enough, though, because a gravelly “what?” accompanied the slight cock of his helmet.

“Nothing, nothing,” you shook your head, the smile slow to fade from your lips. “It’s just- are you sure you’re not hurt or anything?” Shifting around in your chair to rest your feet on the center console, you narrowed your eyes with a teasing smirk. “Or are you just getting old?”

You knew he really was in a bad way when he didn’t bother to answer, only sighing as he - finally - managed to reach his full height. “I’m going to take a look at the engine,” the Mandalorian said gruffly, stepping towards the main hangar. You hummed in acknowledgement, examining the beds of your nails with an air probably too casual for someone who was sharing oxygen with a known killer. You could hold your own, though. He knew that. Maker, that was half the reason why you were here. The other half had to do with a very small, very strange baby who was now napping in its pod behind you. “Get your feet off my ship.”

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to look back as your hand came up to form a less than lady-like gesture. So much for class and decorum.

——–

You were going to kill him. You were going to rip the beskar off his stupidly toned chest and use it to beat him into the damn ground. He was being such a… such an… an ass!

The Mandalorian had always been terse, you were used to that, but this was something else. He’d nearly driven you to tears the other day and barely apologized, only stalking off to his quarters like a petulant child with nothing other than a “m’sorry.” Yeah, sorry your ass. If he was sorry he would tell you what was going on. It wasn’t the bounties, which were plenty and easily found. It wasn’t the child. It wasn’t you- at least you hoped it wasn’t. So what was it?

It took Mando snipping at you one night for no particular reason, his tone patronizing and clipped, for you to finally confront him. Jamming an angry finger into the metal of his chest plate, you raised your head to meet the slit of his visor. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Mando?”

Your voice was harsh but whispered, not wanting to wake the child sleeping in the cockpit. He moved to push your hand away but you shoved it back, fingers splaying against leather and beskar as your gaze stiffened. “No, stop it. What’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”

“It’s nothing.” He ducked his head down, the chin of his helmet meeting his chest. Scoffing, you stepped back and shifted your weight to one leg, your eyes on him unrelenting. For someone whose job description included lying, he wasn’t very good at it. At least, not with you.

“Obviously it’s something,” you said a little softer. He let you touch him this time, your hands coming up to the dips of his shoulder that lay uncovered by armor. Another groan escaped him, barely audible but slightly pained when you pressed the stiff muscles. You furrowed your brows at the sound. “Are you hurt?”

The Mandalorian shook his head at this, but you remained unconvinced. Realizing something, you resisted the urge to laugh as you pushed your hands down against his shoulders again. It wasn’t very hard and you doubt he could feel much through the thick fabric of his shirt, but it was enough for a deep gasp to be clear through the modulator. He wasn’t injured. He was sore.

You dug your thumbs into the cords of muscle, your tone lighter than it had been in weeks. “You really are getting old, aren’t you?”

“I’m-” he hissed when you flattened your palms, “fine.”

“Mando…”

The Mandalorian’s gloved hands reaching to pull you away. Fingertips ghosted across your arms, hesitant. You sighed, shaking your head as if to rid the air of perceived ill intentions. “I don’t know if you noticed, but you haven’t exactly been pleasant to work with lately.”

You imagined a smile beneath the helmet when he huffed at your words, but maybe that was wishful thinking.

“Yeah, I know. M’sorry.” Ah, there it was again. This time, though, you could tell he meant it. You let your hands fall to your side.

“Y’know…” Oh, this was a bad idea. You were definitely overstepping. Completely off your rocker. “I could help you.”

“What?” Were you dreaming, or did his voice really just drop an octave?

“I could um-” you swallowed, steeling yourself for the rejection you were almost certain of. “I could help. You. If you wanted me to. I mean I wouldn’t- kriff I don’t know! I don’t know why I-”

“Stop talking.”

You swallowed again, lips parted in shock and your voice wavering slightly. “Okay.”

“Help me how?” He stepped closer in the darkness of the hall, his feet coming near enough that you widened your own to compensate.

“You’ve got to have like, a thousand knots in your back, Mando. I’ve seen your bed.” You laughed to cover the rising flush in your cheeks. “Not much of a bed, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t.”

Funny. He was funny. It was a joke, right? Even after so long, you could barely tell. Hazards of the helmet, you supposed. It made things, at least for you, very, very awkward.

“Look, just-” you screwed your eyes shut, fingers rubbing circles into your temples. “If not for your sake then for mine and the kid’s, alright? If that’s all that’s making you act like an ass, then it’s something that I- that we can fix.”

Armor shook slightly with another deep breath, his sigh bone-deep and echoing slightly through the ship. “Fine.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

———

He was just… standing there. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous. Maybe he was. “You’ll have to take off all your armor, you goof.”

“I know.” The words were tight, stretched over with something you couldn’t place.

“Hey, it’s fine,” you assured him, your voice kinder. “Relax, tin can. I’ve seen a lot worse.” You winked when he reached to undo his pauldron. “Need some help?”

Sighing, the Mandalorian sat on the edge of his bed, although calling it that was a bit generous. It was a pad probably six inches thick laid on a slab of metal. No wonder he was in such a foul mood lately. Your own cot, shoved in a too-small storage closet with an old cape (his old cape, actually) as a blanket, seemed much more appealing. Maybe he was just a masochist or something. Maybe this was some sort of weird Mandalorian penance. Or maybe he just didn’t have anywhere else to sleep.

A cough you drew your mind out of your thoughts and back on the man behind you, his armor now a careful pile on the floor. Shedding anything else was apparently a bridge too far, but it was still the most exposed you’d ever seen him. “It’d probably be easier if you um… laid down. On your stomach.” The Mandalorian nodded slowly, pushing himself up on the bed and letting his head fall. Stifling a laugh at his movements, you stepped closer. Oh. Oh no.

“Mando?” He grunted in acknowledgement, his arms straightening besides him. “I- I won’t really be able to reach standing. Is it okay if I-” you winced at your words, hoping he wouldn’t be able to notice the way your face burned. “Sit? On the bed?”

The Mandalorian sat up slightly, his elbows knocking against metal. “You mean on me?”

You nodded, tongue heavy and dry on the roof of your mouth. “It’s fine, really. If you don’t want me to I can just-”

“You can. If you want to.”

Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Okay. That was good, right? He trusted you. You trusted him. You could give your co-worker/associate/bounty hunter-you-flirted-with-when-you-got-drunk a back rub without it being weird, right? Right.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You climbed onto the bed, careful not to ram your head into anything. This was the nearest you’ve been since- since never, actually. You can’t remember, in all your years of hunts and missions and times aboard the Crest, ever being this close to him. Every rise of his chest, every jostle of his hips and micro-movement that had never been afforded to you before was on display now, inches away and undeniably human. His shirt had ridden up slightly when you moved to straddle his legs and you could see skin, tan and strong and battle-wearied. Not a tin can, after all.

You’d rested your hands on the Mandalorian’s shoulders for balance, not realizing it until his own curled into themselves, gripping the hems of his shirtsleeves until his knuckles stretched pale. Frowning, you coaxed his palms open until they rested at his sides. There. Much better.

The metal against your knees was cold, uncomfortably so, but he was warm underneath you, solid and impossibly still. You moved to the juncture of his neck, the skin there drawn tight with the weight of armor and expectations, and strings of hurried apologies followed every knead of your hands. He called your name, the sound rumbling through his chest, and you bit your lip.

“Yeah?”

“Stop apologizing.”

You grew quiet. Exactly why you listened to the Mandalorian so easily you didn’t want to think about. You blamed the water. He was probably slowly poisoning you until you went mad for his own amusement.

Everything was dampened in recycled air and hazy blue light, pulsing something that had always been present but now was coming to a head and growing a face that you refused to look in the eye. Now was not the time. There would never be a time. You would sooner step out of the limits of space itself until you were stretched thin, enveloped and spun dizzy in the quiet horror of a supernova, than admit there could ever be a time.

Catching a swollen cord of muscle along his back, you pushed down with the heel of your palm and something big shot out to grip at the side of your thigh, its touch unrelenting and so sudden that a gasp was caught in the back of your throat. It was his hand. It was just his hand. So why the fuck could it cover half your leg and then some? Why the fuck was he pressing enough to probably leave bruises?

His hand retracted as quickly as it came, accompanied only with a low noise you could’ve sworn was a whimper. You didn’t want to admit to yourself that you were disappointed, only returning your attention to the task at hand. Maybe you should treat this as a mission. Keep yourself sane and from doing something irredeemably stupid. Great, yeah. Mission to get the knots out of Mando’s back so he would stop being a prick. An awesome game plan, really. Infallible.

Squeezing slightly at the flesh between his shoulder blades, you let your fingernails scrape against the bare skin of his neck until the fabric of his collar gaped. The smallest hint of curls peeked through the underside of the helmet. Brown. Huh. You thought they’d be darker.

Every drag of your knuckles brought a sound, whether it was a huff of air or a downright moan, but you tried not to think about it. You just blocked everything out, warbling your senses until you felt submerged in imagined water and not-imagined skin and words better left unsaid. You mapped every curve of stiff muscle, down the deep slope of his back and over fabric that wasn’t thick enough to conceal the ridges, the landscapes and jagged reminders of enemy encounters. You found yourself liking them, though. The scars.

You’d pushed the shirt up eventually, whispering “is this okay?” before the Mandalorian nodded quickly, dark cloth gathering around his shoulders and bunching up where it lay against his neck. His skin was hot now, burning and lighting fuses on every frayed nerve on the tips of your fingers until you swore you’d grown numb, drunk on contact and the twilight fog of shared lifetimes. It really had been lifetimes. Since you’d met him. Since you’d touched someone like him. Like this.

You were too caught up in it, lost in your own thoughts and so focused on trying not to cross a line or hurt him that you didn’t notice he’d turned onto his back, his hands coming up rest at the swell of your hips.

He pushed up onto his elbows until your forehead fell against the helmet, the beskar against your skin like ice on a desert morning. Your eyes fluttered shut, hands coming to brace themselves on his covered chest. Everything was slow, like syrup was poured into your head and down your throat until it settled into something biting at the base of your spine, a crawling smoke of ungloved fingers and parted lips. He lifted the hem of your shirt and the edge of his helmet dipped to the curve of your neck. The words were shaky through his modulator, hoarse and dulcet. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, reaching to grip at his biceps. “Yeah that’s okay.”

——-——-

part two

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #star wars fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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thepeachgreentea · 4 years

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this got Real Long Real Quick...

I wanna know more about Luka's soul song gift - like how much do emotions or personality play into it? ((I’m going with a lot)) Does it only work in person?? Or can he get like snippets from videos or vibes from pictures? Like it would make sense if it was only in person...... But where's the fun I'm that? Realistically it wouldn't be as strong as in person but I could see him getting some stuff. Pictures it probably wouldn't be a lot, or even much of anything, unless the soul song really didn't match the picture...

Which means Luka is one of the first people to realize something is Up with Adrien (and the Agrestes in general)

The ads around the city never felt right, never matched up with the snippets/vibes he was able to get - unless Adrien was supposed to be sad or melancholy. Which is... yikes...

Then the Adrien The Fragrance commercial happens. And that's an additional big Fucking Yikes

Like I can only imagine that Adrien isn't particularly big on modelling in general from what we've seen (with the Marinette-exception) so the filming of that could have only been Worse than normal. How many times did it take to get the emotions at the ‘right’ level? How long did it take to get the angles and all the action done?

Anyway: after the first time Luka literally cannot stomach watching it or even listening to it because it is so Wrong. The soul song snippets from the video are longer and more intense and it is just so discordant that Luka can't deal

Adrien is most certainly NOT feeling carefree. Or radiant. Or remotely dreamy. He's goddamn exhausted, frustrated, resigned, depressed, sweaty, anxious, awkward, stressed. It is a whole stew of (teen) angst offset with that upbeat music and the bright blue sky & all that w h i t e and the jumping for joy

It is such a strong dichotomy Luka has a visceral reaction every time and has to either leave the room or mute it and look away,

All of that means that after he meets Adrien in person, and gets to hear his soul song in a couple different situations and can see his emotions matching internally and externally he basically tells him they will always have space for him on the Liberty. (Also the first time he saw the LB + CN movie and heard Adrien's voice acting he only picked up some nerves - easily attributed to a new situation rather than a secret identity - but he was clearly enjoying himself even if it was a terrible script)

Therefore, Luka doesn't have particularly good feelings towards Gabriel, even before seeing any videos of him.

Style Queen was a Time. He was happy for Adrien but the bits he was getting from Gabriel were so rigid and tight... And rather selfish to boot. Which was weird given the situation

He has to try very very hard to not sneer or snarl at the tablet he first "meets" him on - probably at a Kitty Section practice or concert or at some class + family event.

I can also v easily picture him meeting him in person and being super uncomfortable at the sheer amount of manipulation and self-aggrandizing, selfishness, etc that rolls off of Gabriel, basically choking out his soul song. Either Lula barely refrains from punching Gabriel and manages to shake his hand but then desperately needs to clean his hands. Orrrr he does punch him and then basically coats his hands in sanitizer (either way he is Nino’s absolute favorite person for this alone)

Also, this would not be the first time Luka has figured out an abusive situation. It has happened with both his own and Juleka's friends & classmates. He is v much a protective older brother at heart

And because I damn well can have some Lila salt, some of which has been touched on before, unlike with Gabriel:

He had heard about her from Juleka and Kitty Section and was a bit confused about it but it wasn't until Rose was over and the girls were telling him about some of Lila's stories that he saw a picture of her.

And that was The Strongest he had ever reacted to a picture before: instant chills up his spine and an actual hiss escaped him

All 3 of them are shocked. Luka then has to explain that reaction as best as he can. Which is hard when you aren't great at words and while the soul song fragments are rather clear he would never make his guitar suffer trying to recreate them.

He manages tho and Julerose are at least wary of her afterwards. They start observing her more and a lot of her behavior and the way she talks can be very off-putting. They start noticing some of the digs that she makes at others, that she contradicts herself 5 different ways, and how she is constantly bringing the attention back to herself.

During all this they start noticing how both Marinette and Adrien react to her and it is Not Good. Mari gets defensive and will often try to bring up those contradictions that they started noticing. But jealousy is only a minor factor, at most. In certain situations it is possible that it could be involved... except those only happen when Adrien is looking very uncomfortable and Marinette notices or they make eye contact and then Marinette creates an opportunity for him to escape

Which is something that no one else is noticing which is really terrible and unhealthy...

Around this time is when Ivan has started to figure out something is up. and then he definitely knows when Julerose show Luka a video at a private band practice.

Because video and in person interactions make the BadBadBAD feelings worse and Ivan, while he often struggles with understanding & expressing emotions, has definitely noticed Lila - even though she is not actually there - causes a lot of stress and anxiety to Luka and he has gotten really good at methods of lessening those.

So, Luka sees the video with/of Lila and has an even stronger reaction than the picture before. His eyes get huge, and his face pales (gets slightly sickly?), and he hisses even stronger than the first time

He refuses to try to play her soul song because something like that is nearly impossible to recreate but also doesn’t need to be put out into the world but does his best to try and describe it

Possible: her soul song feels like it is drowning in toxic sludge - there is just so much negativeness that it is barely intelligible. It is being smothered by self-satisfaction and importance, narcissism, aggressive manipulation, pettiness, vile maliciousness, etc

In person interactions are awful. Luka avoids physical interaction as much as possible. Even more than he would with Gabriel, and he wants as little to do with that man as possible, ideally none. But Lila is worse...

There have been multiple times that he has had to step out/away to be able to get some fresh air and breathe again. At least once where he has been or almost has been sick - usually following a hug that he did not consent to or something similar

Ivan is definitely in the fold now, and Julerose share what they have noticed from taking their step back. He realizes he has noticed a lot of those same things but he wasn’t analyzing them and didn’t have the same context for them at the time that Luka, Juleka, and Rose did. But afterwards he picks up on them more clearly, and some other things they hadn’t - benefits of being one of the quiet kids (and a lesser target of Lila’s focus). He is part of the driving force in bringing Marinette and Adrien in first before going to others.

Marinette breaks down because more people believe her?? and support her and Adrien? it is a huge relief of tension. And she didn’t even have to convince them herself!! what a concept... but it is definitely a safe space for her and she can share her own experiences and that certainly is nice

they had all suspected Something was Up but weren’t expecting that so there are lots of hugs and tears and support and mutters of payback

Adrien eventually cries because Kitty Section + Marinette give him a TedTalk about consent and personal autonomy. And now he has so many people (!!!) telling him he can say no and make his own choices, mistakes, and decisions. (Marinette’s part is largely “I told you so / do you believe us now?” because the Dupain-Chengs have probably already given this same talk as a family but that is just A family’s opinion, others probably think differently) And this is the first time he really truly believes it and... oooof there are a lot of emotions and interactions to unpack and reconsider

but now he knows he really needs to and that he can and should which is new, but so is having an actual support system...

Thus, Luka is ready to fight a bitch the first time he sees Lila and Adrien interacting. There is so much clinging and touching, and Adrien is panicking and no one is doing anything or is being waved off. And (unfortunately) this is one of the things that causes some people to start questioning things about Lila. Because most of them know of Luka as a really chill, laid-back guy who is open and accepting of people. and besides he has no reason to be jealous (((👀👀👀👀 too much to think about and unpack t h e r e))) so why would he be upset about Lila leaning on Adrien and holding his arm??

So, the questioning of Lila and what she says spreads out from Kitty Section and Adrinette to the rest of the class. They take a different approach. They slowly, carefully approach their classmates and take them aside when possible to talk about the situation

This allows them to be able to get their undivided attention and lay out what they have found out in a logical and cohesive manner, rather than attempting something rash or in the heat of the moment. Marinette grumbled about this method initially but when there were actual results and the burden was shared it was a huge relief for her.

In fact, others start coming to them about Lila.

because of the work of Kitty Section and Adrinette Lila’s audience has been steadily decreasing and it is getting easier to notice things. With a smaller audience the focus doesn’t get split as much and there are less questions for her to build off of or go on tangents from and the contradictions start standing out more, or she’s making more to try and keep them around her by holding their interest with different details

Plus, the comments about those outside Her Circle are getting meaner and more frequent. Usually they are still sneaky or underhanded but nowhere near as subtle as they were originally (were they ever, really?) and it is raising suspicions and hackles.

Eventually, Lila is left without an audience because the class has all been brought out of the cloud of manipulation and are working on trust and listening to each other more/better. and on how to not disregard other’s feelings (which is esp important with the high butterfly population in Paris, but is a v good life lesson in general). they are young and will make mistakes and will have to learn from them. but trials, growth, and change are all part of life so it is good for them.

But it essentially all stems from Luka and his ability to hear soul songs and reacting to those songs, or the lack thereof when they are being choked by evil intentions/emotions/actions/what have you

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guardianofjunmyeon · 4 years

Text

Finding Atlantis (part 14)

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: wait i forgot i left you all on a cliffhanger akjfhjf. Here’s an update (finally) im a bitch blocked about where the next chapter is going so it might take...about as long as this one took to be uploaded. Its gonna have some smut tho. This chapter has new characters and PLEASE appreciate my fucking bubble conversation, i wanted to use the whole “she came down in a bubble dawg!” convo but i didnt

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

There are certain experiences you’ve lived through enough times to consider yourself a pro at handling. Situations like being handcuffed to a bed. Like being left on an island with no food or water. Like having to fight your way out of a bar when someone is getting too rough with the other patrons.

Drowning is quickly becoming a situation with which you are getting too closely acquainted.

When the ocean swallowed your little dinghy, your life flashed before your very eyes. This was truly the end. The last thing you would ever live through would be the song of Atlantis tickling your ears, the sight of Junmyeon glowing blue, and the feeling of Baekhyun’s skin beneath your palm.

All in all it wasn’t the worst way to go, but there was still so much more that you wanted to experience.

You’d never gotten a chance to return home, to sit at that cliff where you sent off your mother’s body and tell her about all of the things you’d done with your life. To describe to her the ship you’d bought, the friends you’d made, the adventures you’d gone on and the memories you’d made. You wanted to go find Victoria again and thank her for taking you in.

You wanted to find that boy that saved your life when you were but a child and to thank him properly. You wanted to tell him all that you’d done and repay him for giving you that chance at life. You wonder if he’s grown up into a handsome man now. If he has a spouse and kids and a happy home on that island you once called home that you left as soon as you could. You wonder if he’d even remember you.

You’d never gotten a chance to get the Storm Chaser those new upgrades that you’d been saving up for. An extension to the crew cabins, sturdier masts, a new set of sails.

You hadn’t gotten the chance to fall in love, to have your heartbroken, to have a baby or even hold one for that matter. Would you have made a good mother? Would you have made a decent wife? Would you have been able to find someone willing to spend the rest of their life with you, on the seas, on land, wherever your hearts could make a home?

Would you have tried to make a home with Baekhyun?

The feeling of being sucked down into the depths of the ocean doesn’t get any less terrifying the second time that you go through it.

As a matter of fact, having it happen again is more terrifying than the first time. Maybe it’s because you can actually feel the pressure of the water crushing your chest. You can feel the way you’re being sucked farther down and the way the water rushes into your nose from the shock of being suddenly dragged under.

It’s nothing like the storm, nothing like fighting the waves and catching the flashes of light as you fought to climb to the surface. Of being tossed around and dropping and rising hundreds of feet seconds at a time. At least then you had a purpose. You aren’t trying to save a life this time. You aren’t able to fight the invisible force dragging you farther and farther down into the water. The water around you is calm, the movement of your body whizzing through the water feels scarily misplaced.

Magical. Unnatural.

Then it all finally stops.

The force pulls you into a pocket of air and gravity takes you by force. Your body collapses on solid ground, and you can breathe. You gasp frantically for air and cough violently as you attempt to catch your breath and your bearings.

You sit up and position yourself on shaky hands and knees as you heave on the dark basalt beneath your splayed fingers.

It takes a few moments of panicked breathing to realize –you’re alive.

You’re alive.

You realize that you’re alive and then you regain enough brain power to panic over if Junmyeon and Baekhyun are also alive. You hear dramatic coughing and hurling to your left and when you investigate you find Baekhyun on his ass with his head between his knees as his spits out salt water.

He looks like a miserable wet dog. You would laugh if you weren’t sure that you look the same.

But where is Junmyeon?

You look left and right, in front of you and behind you but you see no trace of him. No sign of him in the underwater cave you’ve somehow found yourself.

“How did we even get in here?” you spit more salt water on the ground and look for your area of entry. Down. It felt like you fell down. So maybe there is something above.

A gasp gets caught in your throat at the sight above you. Open water somehow suspended above. If you weren’t nearly positive that you somehow fell from there, you would think there was some extremely strong glass blocking the water from falling through the hole above. You can see the glow of deep sea fish swimming by and you’re hit with just how far below the surface you are.

Dizziness pounds through your skull and you hurl out more water all over your hands.

Disgusting.

“Are you guys alright?”

You lift your head at the sound of Junmyeon’s voice and feel your remaining strength seeping from your bones. He looks between you and Baekhyun’s pathetic forms with distressed eyes.

Baekhyun looks up from between his legs with an incredulous open-mouthed frown. He looks your first mate from his toes to his head. “How the hell are you dry?”

It’s then that you notice he looks remarkably put together. As if he never even experienced the sensation of being pulled straight towards hell through water. The patterns on his skin have dulled down to a pale blue, but they are still there as clear as day.

“An Atlantian thing,” Junmyeon answers with a shrug and a smile. He reaches out a hand to help you to your feet but you wave him away with a shake of your head.

“No, give me a second. I just- I need,” you point to the hole above, “This is just-” you close your eyes and wave him away weakly. “Fuck, I need some time.”

He laughs lightly and chooses to help Baekhyun up while you gather your wits. This is overwhelming. “Did you just materialize down here what the fuck?”

“No, I came down in a bubble.”

“A…bubble.”

“Yeah you know one of those things filled with air-”

“You couldn’t lend us one of those bubbles?!”

“I didn’t know how. I don’t even know how I got it around me. Must be an Atlantian-”

“If you say ‘Atlantian thing’ one more time I will, and I swear to Poseidon, strangle you with my bare hands right here.”

“…Atlantian thing,” Junmyeon finishes cheekily. Baekhyun groans loudly and you can hear the weak thumps of him trying to smack your first mate and being deflected.

You struggle onto your feet as Junmyeon and Baekhyun argue. Typical back and forth between the two of them, you know Baekhyun is all talk when it comes to most people; he won’t hurt Junmyeon.

Letting your eyes fully wander the cave, you take in the shiny crystals in the rock around you and the way everything glows a tranquil light blue.

You hear the thundering footsteps before you see the people coming charging towards you out of the alcove hidden from your view.

“INTRUDERS, DROP TO THE GROUND NOW!”

“We just got up,” Baekhyun whines at your side. You lower your still shaking body back down to your knees and hold your hands up in the air to show your willingness to cooperate. In the corner of your eye you catch Junmyeon landing a swift kick to the back of Baekhyun’s legs with his good leg and sending him to the ground with a painful crash.

You flinch at the noise and the people in matching outfits in front of you hold out their swords, ready to strike at any moment. Once Junmyeon has lowered himself to his knees, the group of people break apart to make way for who you assume must be the leader. If the aura of dominance and the extra sparking pink embellishments on their otherwise plain white uniform is anything to go by.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” The man asks gruffly. He’s tall, handsome, big eyes rimmed in dark black kohl. His analyzing brown eyes drag from you, to Baekhyun, and finally land on Junmyeon. You catch the exact moment that recognition crosses his face.

His eyes widen and he blinks rapidly in disbelief, the sword in his hand clatters to the ground and resounds through the cave. “S-Suho? Prince Suho is that you?”

You turn to look at Junmyeon who has locked eyes with the leader with a look of confusion on his face.

“Do they know each other?” Baekhyun whispers to you.

“Shut up,” you hiss.

Junmyeon gasps and climbs to his feet. “Minho? Minho! I can’t believe it,” he says elatedly. The two of them run (Junmyeon more hobbling than running with the shitty cast still on his leg) into each other’s arms to embrace and you watch with a kind of fond sadness as they grip one another as if the other will vanish into thin air.

The other guards slowly lower their swords and break out into disbelieving whispers. Baekhyun grabs your left hand and lowers it to your lap. “I think you can lower your hands now prisoner. I don’t think they’re going to kill us yet.”

“It’s as if nothing in this world is enough to keep you from annoying the absolute hell out of me,” you grumble.

He beams, a wide and happy smile. “It’s my charm.”

You snort out a laugh while he stands up on both feet and holds out a hand for you to take to get up. You slap your hand in his and let him heft you to your feet.

Junmyeon calls out your name and you whip in his direction in alarm. He drags over the leader of the guard with a hand on his bicep and matching grins on their faces. “I want you to meet my childhood friend Minho!” He looks up at Minho with eyes beaming with happiness. “We grew up together, and Minho here is the Captain of the entire Atlantian military.”

Minho looks down at the ground bashfully.

“It is an honor to meet you. Junmyeon says that he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. I, as well as all of our people owe you our highest form of gratitude,” Minho says with a deep bow.

You blink at the gesture, stupefied into immobility. Junmyeon gives you a pointed look and a subtle bow of his own to hint that you should bow back. You quickly bend at the waist and rise up. “It’s- Uhm, thank you. It wasn’t just me though, there are lots of people to thank for his return up on the surface,” you say with a nervous smile.

Minho laughs. “I’m sure. You can all amaze us with tales of your time above at breakfast in a few hours. I’m sure you would all like a moment to settle and…” he looks at Baekhyun and your soaked clothing. “…clean yourselves up.”

The two of you frown indignantly.

As if you planned on showing up soaking wet.

Minho whistles loudly and a smaller man comes scrambling out of the group of guards. “Hendery, show our two outsiders where they can rest. I will take the prince directly to the Queen.”

The smaller man nods vigorously. “Yes sir. I would like to have Xiaojun assist me, if I can.”

“Take who you need,” Minho gives you both another once over before leaning down to whisper, “Make sure there is plenty of soap in their bathrooms.”

You squawk in embarrassment. Junmyeon offers an apologetic smile before coming to place both of his hands on your shoulders and lowering his voice to talk to you and Baekhyun as privately as he can. “Just follow them and relax. I will come find you once I am finished talking to the Queen. They won’t do anything to hurt either of you.” He squeezes your shoulder. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You nod in affirmation. Baekhyun grunts at your side.

Hendery and another young guard lead you away and out of the cave. You are only allowed one final look over your shoulder before Junmyeon vanishes from your sight.

The bleakness of the cave gives way to a wide low hallway covered from top to bottom in blue crystals, or maybe it’s glass.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you murmur to the man at your side. Neither of the guards bother to turn around at the sound of your voice.

“I’m trying to take it all in. This is insane I never thought I would ever actually see this place,” Baekhyun whispers back. You’re shocked by the genuine way he explains himself. “Why? Do you already miss the sound of my voice? I can keep talking if you want.”

“I’ll pass. I already miss the silence.”

His giggle resonates against the walls. You bite down on your lip to keep from smiling in return.

Your group reaches the end of the tunnel and the guards suddenly stop. Hendery turns around first. “Because we are unable to trust you we will have to transport you while keeping our city and location a secret.”

“Huh?”

“I think we’re going to get blindfolded,” Baekhyun whispers to you.

The other guard reaches into his coat and produces two pieces of cloth while Hendery slams a fist on the wall. A hole opens up where seamless wall once stood. You watch dumbly as the other guard, Xiao…Xiao something sits in the human-sized hole and then lies on his back before disappearing through a tube.

What the fuck is this place?

You’re blindfolded first and led to the hole. “Sit.” So you do. What kind of transport requires you to sit in a hole blind? You’ve lived a couple of years now and that's long enough to know that this doesn’t feel quite safe.

Before you can argue your way out of it, you’re pushed and then careening through space. With your eyes covered and the jolt of bewilderment at sliding too fast to be humanly possible you don’t have any choice but to let out a scream.

You’re on your feet again before you know it –albeit dizzy and shaking. The blindfold is removed and you’re met with the impassive face of the guard. You look around yourself to figure out what in the deep sea hell you just slid through.

“You might want to get out right about now,” he suggests.

You hear the telltale sound of Baekhyun’s yelling and cursing getting closer by the second, so you hobble out of the exit compartment and watch in wonder as the top of the compartment opens up and air blasts from the bottom to decrease the force of gravity as Baekhyun drops to his feet.

He’s shaking like a log and his wet hair and clothes are even more disheveled than they were before.

Maybe it’s the overload of being exposed to all the new technology and scenery, but you can’t stop yourself from loudly laughing at his appearance.

Xiaoxi…Xiaode…Xiaojun, that sounds right-

Xiaojun walks forward with a smile twitching on his lips to remove the blindfold from the once one-eyed troublemaker. But, Baekhyun has his eyes squeezed closed, refusing to open them. You take it upon yourself to physically pull him out of his spot.

“It’s over, you’re on solid ground now,” you tease. He peaks open one eye and it darts around distrustfully before he opens them both and leans forward with his hands on his knees to let out a dramatic exhale of breath. Another humored giggle escapes you. “You look like shit and the way you screamed-.”

He stands up straight with reddened cheeks. “Never speak of it,” he threatens in a low voice. You roll your eyes and lift a hand to fix his messy hair. You hear the hiss of air from the tube, knowing that Hendery will be arriving soon, but you busy yourself with smoothing down the unruly strands.

The red darkens on his face as you rake your fingers through the hair at his fringe. You aren’t sure what compels you to initiate the act, but he doesn’t stop you so selfishly you continue to take what you can. Satisfied with your work you smile shyly and turn away to hide your face and the heat you can feel creeping up your neck.

A cough snaps you back into attention.

Right, the guards.

Hendery has a creepily knowing smirk on his face while Xiaojun covers his mouth with his hand, but you can see mirth shining in his eyes.

Baekhyun clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. “So…where are we supposed to rest exactly? Or are we supposed to wander around and find it ourselves?”

Hendery motions to the right. “Down this hallway.” He nudges Xiaojun and they both walk forward. You resist the urge to smash your head into the wall as you follow behind. Into one of the…beautiful smooth white walls. For the first time you take in the interior of the building where you have ended up.

High ceilings and pillars. Enormous windows that go from ceiling to floor to show an expansive view of what awaits outside.

You’ve had plenty of time to image what Atlantis would look like, but seeing it in front of you now, bathed in a light like that of early dawn, with the reflection of water moving over the architecture…it’s too unreal, too magical to put into words.

“Keep up. You’ll be able to see the city after breakfast with the Queen,” Xiaojun advises. Both you and Baekhyun pick your pace back up after having fallen behind trying to take in all that around you.

Attempting to keep your gawking to a minimum you keep your eyes ahead and try to quickly take in as much as you can.

“We’re here,” Hendery says. You almost tumble into his side when he suddenly stops; and Baekhyun trips over his own feet at your side. “These will be your rooms. There will be drinking water and a bathroom for you to clean up. We have already notified the castle staff of your arrival and there will be clothes delivered to you for you to change into for the meal.

“Breakfast will be served in 3 hours. One of the castle butlers will come for you to show you to the dining area at that time. Until then we advise you entertain yourself inside of the room.” The door is opened and a grand suite awaits you. Your mouth drops at the extravagance of it.

A large bed rests at the very center of the room, draped in iridescent white curtains that look as creamy as milk. The floor is covered in cold white marble and speckled with shells and pearls embedded into it. A large couch is perched near the entrance, a lit fire in front of it keeping the room comfortably warm. A book shelf stretches across a third of the room only stopping at a golden archway that you assume leads into the bathroom. The room is decorated in soft golds, creamy whites and pale blues. You catch little accents of pink in the wall paint and on the couch pillows.

The dome-like shape of the room makes you feel like you’re in a bubble.

“What is with you guys and bubbles?” You grumble to yourself.

Xiaojun shrugs. “It’s an Atlantian thing,” he says simply.

You close your eyes in frustration while Baekhyun grumbles at your side.

“So whose room is this?” Baekhyun asks once he’s done cursing Atlantis and its obsession with bubbles. Hendery and Xiaojun share a look and you catch the sneakiness on their expressions.

Hendery is the one who decides to answer, cheerily as if he isn’t intentionally planning to ruin your time here in Atlantis. “Both of yours.”

“I’m sorry what did you just say?”

“This room is for the both of you.” Hendery casts Baekhyun a wide smile. “You’ll have to share because…uhm..”

“Because we’re low on rooms,” Xiaojun chimes in.

“Yes! Low on rooms,” Hendery agrees quickly, conspicuously. You narrow your eyes. “You see we have a lot of guests recently because of a…” he looks to Xiaojun for help.

“For a uh, for a wedding!”

“Who is getting married?” Baekhyun asks, just to catch them in their lie.

“One of the princes! Ah we must be returning to our Captain now. Rest well!” Hendery says quickly before he and Xiaojun rush away with their hands over their mouths, giggling like school children. You’re adults, you can share a room. You won’t let the giggling of the younger boys worsen the pounding in your chest.

You exhale and shake your head. “Come on.” You enter the room first and immediately feel relaxed by the colors, the roundedness, and general softness of everything around you.

The fire feels like it’s calling your name so you wander over to warm yourself up by its flames. Your wet clothes are beginning to feel bothersome again now that the excitement of being in Atlantis and being alive have begun to fade.

The sound of something sopping wet hitting the ground heavily pulls your attention from the flickering flames. When you turn around you don’t expect to see your roommate getting ass naked…

But alas that is what your eyes land on. His shoes and shirt are already in a wet pile by his feet.

“Baekhyun,” you admonish. He stops with his pants halfway down his legs. You look at his soft naked dick only momentarily before you raise your eyes back to his anticipatory face. “Really?”

“I’m cold and wet. I need a shower do you want me to get sick?”

“You couldn’t even wait to go change in the bathroom?”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he responds before shucking the last of his clothing and standing in the middle of the room proudly.

In all his naked glory.

You can’t help but feel a bit put off by the fact that he doesn’t have any issue getting naked around you. He’s not even hard. It’s like your presence doesn’t affect him in the slightest.

Bitterly you wonder if you’d been Jongin would he have a different reaction in this situation. You stand up abruptly. Fuck Baekhyun.

Pettily you strip out of your clothes as you walk towards the bathroom, leaving the wet articles in your wake. “I’m cleaning myself first,” you state coldly as you all but rip the last of your clothing off at the archway of the bathroom.

You don’t turn around and you don’t bother to investigate why he seems stunned to his spot or why he averts his eyes as you walk by.

~~~

The bathroom is just as opulent as the main room. A creamy white with pretty pale pinks streaked through the marble and coloring the crystals that illuminate the room in a soft pinkish glow.

A tub the size of a small pool is carved into the corner of the room. Oils and scented salts in jars cover the expansive shelf built into the wall at its side. A wide mirror stretches across the room with a spout and basin to wash your hands in front of it. A varied range of brushes and facial oils and paints are neatly organized across the counter, settled in front of a thick patterned chaise. You find candles nestled snuggly beneath a shelf of towels and unused sponges on ropes.

Looking at your appearance in the mirror, your hold in the need to physically recoil. You skin looks blanched from the overexposure to water, and the hair on your head is knotted beyond belief. Not wanting to look at your naked form for too long you twist the knob at the tub to release a steady flow of lukewarm water. You toss in some oil that smells good and a soap that catches your attention. The bottle is make of glass and has writing that you can’t read as it must be in Atlantian, but it smells and looks good and bubbles up when it comes in contact with the running water.

Grabbing a comb from the counter of goodies and the specialized hair soap left at the side of the tub, you decide to make an event out of pulling your appearance back together. You will be meeting the Queen in a few hours.

Gingerly, you lower yourself into the water and shove your head under the spout before lathering it in hair soap and detangling the strands on your hand. Rinsing out the suds and then turning off the water, you allow yourself to be semi submerged in the water.

“Yah, you can’t steal the bath and then spend an hour using it. I could have been in and out already.” You crane your neck to find Baekhyun’s complaining form leaning against the archway.

“You weren’t fast enough. Not my problem. You can wait.”

“No I can’t.”

“You can, and you will. I’m not fucking moving.”

In the month you have spent time more intimately with Baekhyun aboard your ship as a fellow crewman, you’ve learned one thing about him that you didn’t know before. He can be astoundingly petty.

His intelligence, his wit, his strength and skill as a pirate, his ability to charm and talk his way out of anything –you knew of it all before. But this petty level of childishness is new.

That being said, you aren’t surprised to find him padding over and then climbing into the large tub across from you. He settles and then his bottom lip juts out.

“Happy now?”

“No.”

You snort loudly and his pout breaks off into something like a smile. You push a handful of water in his direction, not enough to do much and not with enough strength to even be called a splash.

The little shithead he is takes your push of water as permission to send a small tidal wave in your direction, splashing you directly in your face.

You splutter and wipe the water from your eyes while he laughs his loudest most punctuated laugh at your expense. When you squint at him through the water still in your eyes you see pure relaxed happiness in his features, and you can’t find it in you to even attempt to be mad.

This Baekhyun is the real one. The one he covers up with cocky smiles and biting words. The one he leaves locked away and protected from the heartlessness that is required of your jobs.

Happy Baekhyun is a vulnerable Baekhyun. A soft version of him that makes your heart hammer in your chest and sparks a juvenile desire to keep him at your side safe from anyone who dares try and take that side of him away.

His laughing calms to muffled chuckles hidden behind his hand. “Okay, now I’m happy.”

“That makes one of us,” you scoff out. The water begins to agitate your eyes so you run the water from the spout to flush out the fragrance laced liquid. Blindly you reach out for the stream only to continuously miss.

“Come here,” you hear at your side. “Here, lean back.” You’re moved to the side and you lean backwards only to come in contact with his chest. You tense before giving in and letting yourself relax against him. You feel his muscles shifting as he reaches around you to cup water and pour it over your eyes. You blink away the water and scrunch up your face in discomfort. “I’m not done, try and keep your eyes open this time,” he says gently.

You reach up and hold open each eyelid as he cups the water and lets it flush out the soap. Finally you can blink without agitation. You contemplate thanking him, but decide to do it once you’re safely on your side of the bath. As you’re making your escape, arms wrap around you and pull you back securely down between strong thighs and against a warm chest.

“Can you…uh can you let me go?”

“Nuh uh,” he grunts with a head shake.

You look down at where his arms are crossed over your chest and swallow thickly. He perches his chin on your shoulder and takes in a deep relaxed breath. You feel stiff as a board. “This is nice,” he sighs out.

This is too intimate. This is too intimate. This is too intimate.

“How long have you been in love with Jongin, Baekhyun?” you ask in a rush of breath. His grip on you loosens to nothing and you pull yourself away from him, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the hardening of your nipples. From the cold of the air and the all too close embrace you’d found yourself enjoying just a tad too much.

He splutters. “I- wh-” he starts to cough violently. You feel your heart sinking with each noise he makes. “I don’t- I’m not in love with Jongin!”

You let your silence and your frown portray your disbelief.

“I’m serious. I’m not in love with Jongin he’s like my younger brother, what would make you think that?!” He fake gags. “Oh gross, just the thought-” he covers his mouth to fake gag again.

You gawk at him. Is he overcompensating to hide the truth?

“What in Poseidon’s name would lead you to believe that I’m in love with Jongin? I nearly raised the kid.”

You feel embarrassment creeping up your neck like snakes. “You- the…Minseok said…”

“Minseok said I was in love with Jongin?!”

“No! Wait let me-” you smack a hand to your forehead. “Minseok said that you took the compass with you when you came to find the three of us and I guess I just I don’t fucking know assumed you had to want to find your crew most in the world and then I figured you were actually in love with one of them and Jongin seemed like the most likely of him and Chanyeol because Chanyeol doesn’t really seem like your type but I guess it could also be him since he’s kind of goofy and airhead at times too-”

His hands come out of the water to cup your cheeks and then –lips.

“Stop talking,” he says softly. Another quick press of his lips against yours. “You’re wrong and you’re stupid and you need to stop thinking before you overload your dumb little brain.”

“Hey-”

“Ah ah. What did I say?”

You purse your lips and let him squish your cheeks closer together until your lips are puckered ridiculously. The look in his eyes is fond almost, the smile on his lips and the shine in his eyes soft as he squishes and unsquishes your face.

You bat away his hands. “You still didn’t answer my question,” you whine despite yourself.

“Aw the baby getting upset?” he makes a face of exaggeratedly fake concern. “Come here, sit on daddy’s lap and I’ll make you feel all better.”

“Baek that was gross.”

“The invitation still stands.” He waggles his eyebrows and shimmies his shoulders. When his gaze drops down to your uncovered chest and a bit of the playfulness gets swallowed up by want, you feel a bit of that desire rushing through your veins again.

He isn’t in love with Jongin?

That only leaves more unanswered questions, but you let them go easily at the sight of Baekhyun reclining lazily against the side of the tub, rubbing up and down his thighs slowly and watching you with predatory closeness.

He is so sexy, you are so fucked.

Squashing the tiny feeling of shame, you crawl over and wrap yourself around him. You can feel him rising in excitement from beneath you. You let your arms rest lazily around his shoulders while he busies his hands with massaging circles on your hips.

“That feels nice,” you whisper in a puff of breath. You know that he can see how affected you are –can feel it in your impatient squirms against him as you attempt to subtly relieve the ache growing inside of you. He hums in agreement and focuses his eyes on your mouth.

You can take a hint when it’s staring you in the face like this. You lean forward and connect your lips softly. A peck. Another one. A kiss on the corner of his mouth. A kiss on the tip of his nose. Another on his smiling lips.

When you pull back there’s emotion swimming in his irises that sparks a heat in your core. You nip at his bottom lip.

A lick, a nibble, a juvenile laugh against pressed lips.

He sticks his tongue out through pursed lips, waiting for you to try and kiss him with his ridiculous expression. You pull away to grimace, only to laugh and lick a messy wet stripe from his upper lip to the tip of his nose.

“You’re a dick,” he laughs, wiping your saliva off his nose.

“And you’re a bastard,” you respond easily. You look at your deeply pruning skin with disdain. “We should dry off.”

“But I like it here in the tub; I haven’t even scrubbed the dirt off.”

“We can clean ourselves properly after I get your cock inside me.” You feel him twitch from beneath you. You cock your head to the side teasingly. “Oh, now you’re ready to get out?”

He scrambles from under you and over the edge of the tub right to the towels. You roll your eyes playfully and climb out just as he plops a towel on your head and quickly tries to dry your hair, only messing it up further.

“Hurry up. We’ll get sick if we stay like this for too long. We need to go to the bed and warm up, I can already feel a cold coming on.”

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo story #exo stories #exo imagine #exo pirate story #exo fanfic #exo pirate au #baekhyun #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun story #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun pirate au

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legendofzelda4life · 3 years

Text

Not Used To This

This was for day ten (yesterday) hopefully this is the last time I have to leave the post till the next day lmao.

Today we have Twilight and Sky platonic angst.

Will it become fluff? Will somebody die? Who knows, but let’s see.

-----------------------------

“Who’s fucking world are we in now?” Legend asked, rather annoyed. They had only switched worlds a day before so switching this soon was annoying.

“Does anybody recognise it?” Time asked. Everybody shook their heads.

“Is everybody here?” Twilight asked. His eyes looked over each person, counting, then his eyes landed on Sky.

It was obvious the Skyloftian was having trouble taking in air, well if the heaving chest was anything to go off of. Sky noticed the Ordonian boy staring at him and he just waved his hand to show ‘I’m fine’.

“If we know what’s good for us, we should keep moving.” Warriors said. The rest of the boys nodded before beginning to walk.

They were in a grass field when they came in so, based on the sun, it was easy to find north. If the boys knew anything about Hyrule, it’s that Hyrule Castle is always somewhere north.

Instead of walking up the front like usual, Twilight fell to the back and decided to walk with Sky.

“You okay?” Twilight asked, sparing a glance at the hero next to him.

“Ye-yeah I just…” The boy took a deep breath, adjusting his collar. “I’m not used to this.” He said. It made sense. They had been to Skyloft at one point, the air was crisp and had nearly made some people like Wind and Legend pass out. Whereas here, the air must’ve felt heavier to him and harder to consume.

It was for nearly everyone.

But it affected the Skyloftian the most.

“Do you want us to stop?” Twilight asked quietly, causing the boy to shake his head. “It’s fine.” He waved his hand. “Alright…” Twilight wasn’t too sure about this.

Not even five minutes later, the Skyloftian walked up to a tree and went behind it.

Twilight had stopped to wait for him and could hear the boy throwing up.

This…

This was not fine.

Sky walked back out, wiping his mouth, heaving a deep sigh.

“Better?” Twilight asked.

The boy shook his head.

“Wanna stop?”

Another head shake.

“Okay then.” The two walked to catch up with the others but Twilight made sure they stayed a few feet behind. He didn’t want to overwhelm Sky when he was like this.

A cough came from next to Twilight, followed by a few more, then stopping with a thud.

Twilight only just managed to catch Sky.

“Woah buddy, wanna stop now?”

Sky didn’t see a point in arguing and nodded.

Twilight looked up and saw Warriors at the back with Wind on his shoulders.

“Oi, Sailor! Captain!” Twilight yelled out. Both boys turned, eyes landing on Sky - whom Twilight had layed in his lap. He saw the two boys exchange words before Warrior’s came over.

“Wind’s telling Time we should stop.” Twilight nodded, not looking at the scarfed hero. His eyes were fixed on Sky.

Twilight was continuously growing more concerned for the boy in his lap.

Sky was one of the more responsible people. Sure he was curious and child-like at times but without Sky’s radiating calmness, everybody would go crazy.

It didn’t help that Twilight looked up to Sky.

Sky was like an older brother to him. Time would fit the role if they weren’t, y’know, related.

But it hurt Twilight deeply to see Sky in so much pain.

“Why *cough* does it hurt so much, Twi?” Sky asked, curling in on himself. “I don’t know, but I promise we’ll help you until we can leave.” Twilight said, feeling his heart break. Sky was so important to him, he couldn’t imagine the group with Sky gone.

It would fall apart.

“C’mon rancher, I’ve got him.” Legend tried to pick up Sky but was stopped by Warriors. “Oh shut up you twig, give ‘im ‘ere!” In response, Legend glared at Warriors before lifting up the sky child with ease.

“We should probably just set up camp now.” Legend said, looking at - a rather shocked - Time. A little confused, he looked at the rest of the Link’s who also had their mouths agape.

“Dear Goddesses is it really that surprising I can lift things without an item?” Legend asked, annoyed at everybody. “Vet, no offense, but yeah.” Wild whispered the last word and Legend sighed. “I hate you all.” No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Hyrule saw the shadow of a smirk on his face.

Eventually, the boys set up camp and layed Sky down.

It hadn’t taken long for Legend’s arms to get tired. Ten minutes at most. It was still a while but after they started playing pass the parcel - without opening said parcel - it became clear that everyone except Four, Wind, and Hyrule could hold Sky.

Twilight, by far, held him the longest and most often. He didn’t pass Sky off unless Warriors literally pried the boy from his arms. After Twilight, Warriors had held him the longest, passing him to Wild once his arms were tired.

Yeah, Wild held him easily.

Time held him for the shortest amount of time but it was enough to help the boys’ arms rest before Sky was passed to Legend once more.

It had been a few hours since they had set up camp and Twilight was on third watch from 2300-0000.

“Nghn.” Twilight heard a groan behind him and whipped around, unsheathing his sword, only to see Sky sitting up.

“Sky… you scared the shit outta me.” Twilight laughed.

Sky gave him a blank stare before standing.

“You guys should’ve kept walking.” The boy sounded annoyed. “Why?” Twilight was confused. Usually Sky was hellbent against going anywhere when someone was sleeping.

“Because.” He said, looking away with a shrug. Twilight laughed nervously. “No, seriously Sky, why would we’ve kept walking?”

“Because I’m…” Sky mumbled the last part so Twilight walked up to him. “What?” The rancher was genuinely concerned.

“I’m a waste of time!” The hero of skies all but yelled.

SLAP!!!

“No! You’re fucking not!”

“Yes! I FUCKING AM, TWI!” Suddenly Sky broke into a coughing fit.

“Shit, Sky, I’m sorry.” Twilight reached out to help but had his hand slapped away.

“Leave me alone.” Sky hissed before turning and walking away.

Twilight made him…

Mad.

“Oh just go after him already and let us sleep.” Legend whined from behind him.

“Yeah, stop staring into space and go.” Wild encouraged.

Without turning to the boys, he nodded his head confidently before leaving.

He ran…

And ran…

And ran.

“Sky!” Twilight yelled.

No response.

The boy could hear a river nearby. “Maybe Sky went to it.” He mumbled.

He was right.

The sky child was lying on the ground, taking shuddering breaths.

“Sky!” Twilight was relieved.

Until he realized Sky had passed out again.

Fuck this place.

Twilight picked up Sky before dashing to the others.

“That was quick.” Four said.

“Is he okay???” Alright out of everyone, after Twilight, the sailor was the most concerned.

“Yeah, but he’s getting worse.” Twilight said.

“Wild found a portal!” Twilight looked up to see Hyrule at the tree line, breathing like he just ran a mile.

The boys ran to it without another word.

Upon entering the other world, it was immediately recognised as Twilight’s Hyrule. “We’re in the Faron woods. We should head to my village.”

“How far?”

“Like ten minutes.”

The group turned to Warriors, extremely confused.

Well, except for Wind and Time.

“He’s been more places than you can guess.” Time explained.

“Uh-huh, what about Lorule?” Legend asked.

Warriors looked at him. “You mean Lorule as in Yuga and Ravio Lorule or…?” The captain trailed off as a shocked look fell upon Legend’s face.

“What the fuck…?” He whispered.

“What? It’s not that-”

“No! Wars turn around!” Legend exclaimed, looking past the scarfed hero.

“What the fuck!” Yep, that was Warriors.

“Dear Hylia, just ignore it. It’s only a bulbin.” “Twilight, I know what a bulbin is! I don’t fucking like them!” Warriors yelled.

“Let’s just go.” Wild grabbed Sky from Twilight and sprinted as far south as he could.

He made it to Ordon within five minutes, everybody else not too far behind.

“Ilia!” Twilight yelled out.

“Link! Hey- you need help?” A girl asked, looking at Wild - who shook his head.

“Look we just need a place to get him rested ‘til he wakes up.” Wind said. Ilia’s eyes looked over everyone before stopping on Warriors.

“Th- they’re all you from other times.” She said. “Yes, now can we go?” “Sure but I’m asking a lot of questions pretty boy.” She gave Twilight an intense stare.

Hyrule groaned.

“What is up with us and girls with attitude???” He said quietly, causing Four to giggle.

A day later

Twilight was sitting next to Sky’s bed.

“He up yet?” Time asked. Twilight shook his head. “I wish old man.” He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah we know. Food’s ready by the way.” “Alright I’ll come over in a sec.”

Twilight stared down at the sleeping boy and chuckled.

“You always were a sucker for sleep.”

“I told you I’m not used to it.”

Twilight jumped.

“What the fuck how long have you been up for?????” Twilight asked.

“About an hour. Maybe less.”

“Idiot.”

Sky was engulfed into a hug.

“Wha- what?”

“I called you an idiot, you really scared me, passing out like that.”

Sky shrugged.

“Not used to it I guess.”

-----------------------------------

Hey look, nobody died but it didn’t centre around Twilight and his sadness/stress as much as it was meant to.

Why do I suck at writing angst????

Reference 1: Kilton is, apparently, botw’s version of the happy mask salesman

LEAVE REQUESTS BELOW!

REQUESTS MUST INCLUDE: PAIRING TYPE/GENRE/CATEGORY (fluff, angst, etc) PLATONIC OR NOT

I WILL WRITE ONLY ABOUT THE LINKS (including the ravio, shadow, and requested characters. Will not write about whole other fandoms though)

I CAN DO READER INSERTS IF REQUESTED (no oc’s tho)

CAN DO AN AU IF REQUESTED

#linked universe #twilight linked universe #sky linked universe #legend linked universe #time linked universe #wild linked universe #wind linked universe #four linked universe #warriors linked universe #hyrule linked universe

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

Text

Holy Milkshake (Walter Marshall x you) (with visuals)

MASTERLIST BLOG

Characters: Walter Marshall x You

Summary: For you, ‘taking the sinner to church’ would be possible. But, not for Walter. He knew everything about you, even with the way you think that he’d taken methods of setting up a tracking device to follow you; getting him infuriated to see you having a ‘little date’ with the stalker who has murdered his exes.

Warnings: Blasphemy. A twisted stalker. Reader being sly, also naughty and not asking Marshall for help. Date rape drugs mentioned. Suggestive content in the end. Ahem. The use of the word brat. OC named Vergil. You can imagine whoever you want for Vergil.

Words: 1,5k +

A/N: OOF! PAPA BEAR MARSHALL! This is my first oneshot/drabble for him! I’m sorry if this look rushed! I’ve written this for only an hour and a half. This was supposed to be a drabble, but..Surprise! Ahe! I was inspired by the GIF collection of Demivampirew, which resulted for a oneshot. Mwohahahaha.I don’t even know how it ended up with Marshall sounding like a zaddy in this one. Oof!

Taglist: @fangirl-inthe-us @rahdaleigh

REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE IT A LIKE, IF YOU’VE LIKED THIS SHORT ONESHOT! THANK YOU!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. Credits to Demivampirew for the GIF collection.

MY WORKS ARE NOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Banana fudge milkshake.

It surprisingly tasted too sugary with every sip as your friend chattered for about an hour already since the moment you agreed on the so-called date you despise of.

The drink piped through the pillows of your lips. Your mouth wrapped on the red and white striped straw that didn't help the slight quiver of your mouth; used as a pacifier to soothe those agitated nerves you had as you were sitting before the 'friend' you thought who had no malicious intentions.

Maybe, it was a bad idea to never inform your boyfriend who could maintain the rounds of psychotic men with handcuffs and rails as a way of dealing the whole rendezvous you've planned to make.

Everything was going smooth. Probably, only an ounce of squeezed up faith as you could see the light and where this was going. If only you could start and try to slide in the conversation he somehow didn't want you to interrupt on; talking about how he was so happy to have a date with you, all those bullshit of beating around the bushes then the real discussion will surely go north.

Until, you've seen that familiar sweater who slid on to the chair beside the criminal named Vergil; the whole 'take the sinner to church' was definitely traveling down south to jail because of his sudden appearance.

You've choked on your own milkshake and coughed out some that went straight to your throat at the image of your tired, roughly bearded, curly haired police officer; sitting his sinewy, wide back on the chair with a tight, disappointed frown.

Well, someone looks mad.

"You're one word away from being tackled to the ground," the man beside him jumped from his interruption, making the chair shriek from being shocked at seeing Marshall sat beside him, all brooding and serious.

It was an ear-piercing sound that caught some of the diner's attention. You've given them a tight lipped smile before they went on to their daily activities and conversations inside the restaurant as you looked rather safe especially that Marshall was already with you.

Your boyfriend continued to give you a glare, his perspective solely on what he was seeing in front of him. His precious little lady sitting in the same table with her perverted stalker. He definitely couldn't believe that you've taken it too far, trying to help this person to change when it needed stones and brutal punishments or long life realizations for a rotten man like Vergil.

Walter was undoubtedly disappointed and furious.

His bright Cerulean eyes were sharp, brutal and piercing as he continued to focus on you, "Your car has multiple bags of heroin and drugs that can tranquilize people if taken in enough dosage---fucking date rape drugs," though, the message was sent to Vergil who was beginning to shit bricks as soon as he'd seen the gun tucked in Marshall's pants.

Walter grabbed onto his hand cuffs, abruptly throwing them on the table as he continued to spit fire. Shoulders tense and his expressions livid, "It's either you put these on," he hissed after throwing the cuffs towards Vergil, his eyes fixated on you as it was silently telling you how displeased he was for your acts, "---or I'll do it myself. But, you'll regret it."

You've let out a sigh. Deep inside, you were relieved because he would save you from Vergil's annoying chatters but somehow irked to know he had you tracked or have given you a tracking device to soothe his protective and utmost crazy antics for trying to keep you safe; out of harms way.

"You were following me, Lovey. Where's the tracking device?"

Your boyfriend gave you a scornful, tight lipped smile. A sudden change of his features that got your heart racing on how attractive he still was for getting his pants in a twist from your shenanigans.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

A grin was sent to him, "My milkshake brings all the boys to my yard?" and you couldn't help but motion for both men who sat before you with Vergil obviously trying hard to think of an escape plan.

He'd faintly shook his head in sheer disappointment.

"Funny." Walter gave a sluggish, nonchalant response as he rolled off his shoulders, leaning his crossed arms on the table as his anger was boiling in a temperature that tells; you were in a much more danger than having lunch with your stalker, "This guy over here---" he gave a curt nod to his side, "---This perverted asshole has retrieved belongings from you---some definitely personal items and you think he'll read a bible or repent over the women he killed if you calmly tell him all about it?"

You fidgeted and chewed the straw in your mouth, watching Walter seethe and heavily sigh from your response, "People change."

"Not dumbfucks like him, sweetheart." he spat, jaw clenching to the extent of seeing the muscles in his neck strain.

Marshall briefly gave him a glimpse as he called out the elephant in the room, quickly regretting because of how he wanted him to rot in the jail for years or forever, "---Don't you, Vergil?"

Vergil began to shake his leg as he sat, nervous and utterly anxious for what was about to come. His face turned red in rage, breathing staggered as he gave you glare; feeling betrayed when he should've been scared for his life because you knew his secretive, twisted habits. Stalking his target, knowing their houses and where they lived, grabbing onto personal things that his target loved using or wearing; panties, bras and those sorts before finding ways to befriend you till he could manipulate and end up loving you up until the point that he could kill for you.

The toxic type of love that seemed to be out of hand in which he has murdered his exes due to jealousy and other unreasonable explanations.

"I knew it! I fucking knew you were plotting this whole fucking thing with your fucking bodyguard over here---"

Marshall gave him a grumpy retort, "Boyfriend is a much more better term,"

Vergil's forehead was popping out veins as he exclaimed, thoroughly in fury for what you've brought him in, "Your boyfriend's part of the police force!"

You languidly blinked back, sipping on the last bits of your milkshake. Did he really not know that he was part of the police force? you puckered your lips at the silent thought; droning as you went on in admiring how you've raised Walter's hackles.

"---He cares and just loves me too much. He followed me. Didn't text him, tho. But, I assure you. He's no twisted stalker like you, Vergil. You certainly need to rot in hell,"

Walter knew you were liking this whole safeguard thing. It was all an act from you because he could see the tiny flicker of mockery in those beautiful eyes; knowing that you've gotten under his skin from the sudden tea party you've worked on.

Though, a pity party for you.

Walter gave him a glance, nodding towards the door where two police officers stood and waited for the catch, "Now, you'll meet two men out on the threshold. In less than one minute, if you're still here planning on kowtowing to lessen the punishments then you're a dunce."

Your boyfriend eyed him sternly, motioning for the handcuffs that rested on the table; saying its hello to its new capture, "What will---what---"

Vergil stammered and shakily took the handcuffs in front of him, scoffing when he heard Marshall grumble with a knowing tone of his that poured a little bit of his accent.

"You're under arrest for fuck's sake. Not quite complicated to understand, isn't it?"

Once the stalker was out of sight, being harshly taken by your boyfriend's co-workers; you couldn't help but emit a shaky breath, palms sweating a lot more than it ever did when Vergil was around because this time you were enthusiastic of what was about to happen in between an enraged police officer and his deceitful little woman.

"Oh, Lovey."

You've heard another set of metal chiming against each other. Yet, this time; the handcuffs were thrown towards you. His face etching in complete seriousness and disappointment. Though, inside those ocean eyes, you knew there was a hint of mischief and passion.

"Put these on." he rasped in full authority, his beard looking so inviting for wanting a short visit in between your throbbing heat since the moment he came to interfere.

"---Because you've been bad, sweetheart," pause. "---and I have zero patience for brats like you,"

You squirmed against your seat, hastily grabbing onto the handcuffs thrown on the table with a grin on your face, subtly looking outside to see your boyfriend's truck parked at the far distance before plucking the manacles off the table and sliding off the seat; with your lieutenant paying for the lunch he loathed, feeling his eyes heavy and thoroughly deprived of seeing your face after nose diving in murder cases he had been working on for weeks.

Marshall hated to see you leave. Those peepers trained on how you've dramatically swayed your hips while you waved the cuffs in the air.

But, he loved watching you go with that naughty derriere snapping from side to side.

THANK YOU FOR READING! STAY SAFE WHERE EVER YOU ARE, BB’S! Watch out for people who have wicked intentions for you! Don’t trust easily!

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

Text

I’m Always Curious Part Three

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: Not beta-read. Also I’m unsure of who Pike’s comms officer is on the Enterprise when it comes to Disco so I?? Made someone up. Lemme know if there’s someone established, tho! Summary: We’d received a search and rescue order from Admiral Cornwell nearly three hours beforehand - a research vessel, the U.S.S. Anil, had ceased all communication with the Federation shortly after it had dropped out of warp for manual repairs - dangerously close to Tholia Prime.

“Remind me why this was a good idea,” Pike grunted into his communicator. “Twelve minutes out, sir,” Number One’s voice crackled crisply in response. "Was that an answer?” Pike asked me, glancing warily in my direction. I might’ve smiled if I could focus on anything but how unbearably hot it was. Our Tholian ‘hosts’ had kindly lowered the temperature of our half of the negotiating room from its customary 404 degrees Fahrenheit to a ‘hospitable’ 102 degrees Fahrenheit (apparently this was so low that they needed to take frequent breaks during our negotiations, leaving us to bake in the room; this seemed excessive, as they had taken the pains to shield themselves behind exothermic screens to ensure their own temperatures wouldn’t drop too drastically). We’d received a search and rescue order from Admiral Cornwell nearly three hours beforehand - a research vessel, the U.S.S. Anil, had ceased all communication with the Federation shortly after it had dropped out of warp for manual repairs - dangerously close to Tholia Prime. We were still in Federation space, but the Tholians had a reputation of being less than kind to anyone that they deemed a little too close to home, and they had never been friends of the Federation. The Anil had been found, badly damaged and entirely uninhabited. Our engineers were doing what they could now to patch up the vessel now, but that was only one half of the search and rescue. Pike’s initial attempts to engage with the Tholian vessel in the area had been fruitless; their language consisted of clicks and high-pitched squeaks, and Pike’s usual bridge communications officer, Lieutenant Commander Thaleh, was on leave, and her replacement wasn’t familiar with Tholian. Spock dropped my name, and I’d been able to decode their message - they wouldn’t speak to us on a ship-to-ship basis. I could reply to them in kind in the form of clicking and whistling. Pike and I agreed to beam aboard their ship under the guise of an information swap while Spock and Nhan beamed aboard separately, in secret, and located the crew members of the Anil. “That was an Una answer,” I said, reaching up and tugging at my collar. We’d been given water, but I knew that if I reached for it now, I’d drain it. “I won’t tell Number One that you used her name,” Pike gave me a conspirator’s smile, and I returned it. “Chalk it up to heat exhaustion, Captain,” I returned.

Pike and I straightened as the door opened, the image of the Tholians reemerging behind their screens. They loomed tall, their glowing rhombus-shaped eyes peering at us through the heated screens. Their sound system crackled to life, and a series of clicks and screeches streamed through. It took me a moment, and I turned to the Captain, swallowing thickly, throat dry. “They would like to inform us that intruders have been identified on board, and would like to know if we know anything about this.” Pike’s brow twitched; our eyes remained on one another’s, careful in our silence to not make any sudden movements, to look at the Tholians where they were closely watching us. From Pike’s communicator, Number One reported, “Nhan and Spock have made contact with the Anil crew. Working to beam them aboard, but they’re jamming our signal, sir.” “Tell them that we are unaware of such involvement,” Pike said. I nodded before I turned my head, repeating the message to the Tholian side. There was a pause from them before another series of clicks and screeches. “They say that they’ve identified our vessel working to repair the U.S.S. Anil and say that we either send orders to stop work immediately, or they will show the same treatment to our crew.” Pike’s expression hardened, then, eyes darting to their screen. “Number One, status report,” He ordered through clenched teeth. “Still working to un-jam the transporter signal, Captain.” My eyes darted to the screens where I could see the Tholians shifting impatiently. “Number One, the Anil crew, when they were captured, they were mid-repair, correct?” I asked. “Affirmative.” “Suited for space?” “Presumably.” “And likely remained so despite capture?” “You have a plan?” Pike asked. I shot him a wary look. “I have a bad idea.” “Well, that’s something,” He pressed. An irritable hiss came from the Tholian side and I held a finger up to signal a moment more before turning my head back to Pike. “Spock and Nhan and suited for combat, helmets included, right? The Anil crew are suited for atmosphere. We tell the Tholians that we’ll give word to stop work on the Anil, beam back to the ship, give Nhan and Spock orders to find their way to an airlock with the Anil crew and into space. If our transporter beam is still blocked, they use their guidance to get back to the Anil, we use our tractor beam to get a lock on the ship and warp out before the clicky bastards over there can do anything about it.” Pike’s lips twitched at my words, asking, “You hear that Number One?” “Heard and patched through to Spock and Commander Nhan as soon as the lieutenant mentioned a bad idea, Captain,” Number One answered crisply. “It’s our best play right now, I say we go for it,” Pike nodded, turning back to the screens. I mirrored him, relaying to the Tholians that we would gladly stop work on the Anil, and that we would need to return to the ship to give the order. The Tholians seemed to purr out our compliance. "Try beaming the others back first,” I mumbled into my comm. The transporter was delayed, and then we were on the transporter pads, in a blessedly cool room. I sighed, letting my shoulders sag, relaxed for a second. I hadn’t realized how much I’d adjusted to that heat until I was out of it. I followed Pike out of the transporter room, into the turbolift, holding onto the handle as we went to the bridge. By the time we arrived, Number One was barking orders, issuing course corrections. I watched as the Anil crew, Spock, and Nhan wove out of the path of Tholian fire, even as the Enterprise darted and rocked out of the path of our own fire. “Anil crew is aboard the ship, sir, Nhan and Spock are with them,” Number One announced. “Tractor beam status?” Pike asked. “Locked, sir.” “Get us the hell out of here,” Pike ordered, lowering himself into his chair. I watched as the Tholian ship began to fade, then disappeared entirely. I felt Number One giving me a look, and I met her eye. “You should get cleaned up,” She said. I couldn’t even bring myself to be embarrassed; I was too tired. I gave her a nod. “Lieutenant.” I stopped at the doors of the turbolift, turning toward the sound of the Captain’s voice. “It wasn’t a bad idea,” He said. I smiled a little bit. “I’ve had better ones, sir,” I said before I stepped onto the turbolift, doors sliding shut behind me. -- “With respect, you should get some rest, sir,” I said lightly. Pike hadn’t even paused for breath when we’d gotten back aboard the ship. I’d heeded Una’s advice and gotten cleaned up returning to my post. We were on our way to Starbase 389 for the Anil’s repairs; the Anil’s crew was safely aboard the Enterprise for the journey. I’d been surprised by the invitation to the Captain’s ready room - Number One had extended it to me, and when I’d arrived at the end of my shift, I’d found Spock, Nhan, Number One, and the Captain there with drinks in hand. I’d assumed it was a debriefing, but it had been more of a decompression session. It had dwindled gradually until it was just myself and the Captain. “Interesting advice from the crew member that almost immediately returned to their post on mission completion,” Pike commented, leaning back in his seat. “I think the key word there would be ‘almost’. At least one of us stopped for water.” Pike’s laugh took me by surprise, and it made me smile. It was a sweet sound - lower than I’d expected, but light. I wanted to hear it again. I lowered my eyes to my desk, careful not to let my eyes linger on his smile, like I’d let myself before. It was easier when the others had been in the room; when his attention was drawn away, I could observe him to heart’s content. Narrowed to the two of us, though, my sneaky glances would be more easily caught out. “You saved our hides out there today,” Pike had sat up in my introspection, leaned forward a little. My eyes flitted to his; that more serious look had overtaken his face again, but there something gentle there, too. “Just did my job, sir,” I excused, shaking my head a little. “It’s not like today was your usual,” Pike pointed out. I smiled. “This is Starfleet. There really isn’t a day to day usual,” I countered, “I mean... I will concede that I don’t typically orchestrate escape missions, but...” I shrugged a shoulder, “Frankly I figured if it was the worst idea offered, I was fine with it being the bottom of the barrel. If you’d taken someone else on that ship you probably would’ve made it out just as fast, if not twice as. I just wanted us out of there in one piece.” Pike was frowning now, not in a disappointed way, but almost with a confusion. I didn’t know what I’d said t hat might’ve prompted that, but I cleared my throat, hoping to jolt him of it. “I should leave you to it, sir. And I’m on shift in a few hours, I should uh...Hydrate between now and then,” I set my half-full glass on his desk and stood. Pike looked like he was about to say something else, but he stopped himself, instead pressing his lips together and giving me a tight ‘Captain’ smile. “Of course. Have a good rest, lieutenant.” “And you, Captain.” I made for the doors before I could say anything else stupid - or possibly confusing. “Lieutenant.” I cringed as I stopped, turning to face the Captain again. He rose out of his seat, walking around his desk to stop in front of me; he was hardly more than a few inches away, and he spoke lowly, as if there was someone nearby that he didn’t want overhearing us. “Any idea that ends in the most peaceful resolution of a situation, with the fewest lives lost, with the ship in one peace and the Federation standards upheld is a good idea. We may’ve left with Tholian fire at our backs, but when we engage with the Tholians, that is almost always going to be a guarantee. You offered a viable solution in a tricky situation and performed more than admirably under pressure.” Pike held my eye as he spoke to me; he wasn’t speaking down to me, or scolding me or lecturing me; it felt like he was almost pleading with me, to see the situation another way. “How another officer may have acted in the situation is immaterial. What I know is how you did act. I was glad to have you by my side.” I averted my eyes from Pike’s, to the badge on his chest. “I appreciate that, Captain,” I said quietly. “...Get some rest, lieutenant,” Pike murmured. “Sir,” I mumbled before I turned on my heel, hurrying out of the ready room as fast as the automatic doors would allow.

#christopher pike x reader #Christopher Pike #Chris Pike #christopher pike/reader #captain pike #captain pike x reader #i'm always curious

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lloydskywalkers · 4 years

Text

There’s Insurance for That

In which Skylor buys lunch, stops a criminal, and learns the best way to blow up the kitchen electronics section, which is a pretty normal week for her, she guesses. Or, five places the ninja are no longer allowed into, featuring Skylor.

(been hitting a bit of a writer’s block with everything else lately, so here’s this...disaster, i guess?? because these ninja are definitely a disaster in this, but i was having fun so. this is the bed bath & beyond fic btw, in case anyone was wondering gdfkgdh)

1. My. Kazami’s Ramen Place

At this point, sadly, Skylor’s used to it.

It’s around a quarter to noon on a Monday, just as she's leaving the noodle shop for her well-deserved lunch break, when a familiar scream splits the relatively-quiet afternoon air on this side of Ninjago City.

The only reason Skylor does not immediately dissolve into panic at said scream is because she is — also sadly — familiar with the variations of it, and this one sounds less like it’s Lloyd’s “I’m-in-terrible-danger-and/or-pain-again” scream, and more like his “I’m-free-falling-on-purpose-from-the-sky-again” scream. Which is, in and of itself, not entirely concerning. In fact, it’d probably be more unusual not to see Lloyd go falling from the sky at some point during any of the ninjas’ higher-than-eight-feet battles, because somehow that’s become a habitual thing. The sky is blue, fire is hot, Kai uses hair gel — Lloyd is going to drop screaming from the sky at some point this month.

So instead of panicking, Skylor figures she’ll just stand in the vicinity until Lloyd either climbs out of another dumpster, or lands on top of her. Kai doesn’t seem to be around to catch him, so Skylor’s prepared to step up, even though it looks like Lloyd’s got a pretty good handle on landing, at the angle she’s watching him from.

Still though, she muses. You’d think he’d have started actively wearing a parachute at this point.

“Kai suggested that,” Lloyd says, after he’s finally able to stand straight, and he’s not quite as cross-eyed. He frowns at his reflection in a store window as they pass by, scuffing at his windblown hair again. “But it gets in the way, you know? It throws off my backflips.”

“That’s a nail in the coffin right there,” Skylor agrees, leading them across another sidewalk. Lloyd’s attracting a lot of looks, with his bright green battle gi and razor-sharp sword strapped across his back, but fortunately no one’s started crowding them yet. Probably because the razor-sharp sword strapped to his back. “Can’t have your fighting style completely crippled,” she adds.

“I don’t backflip that much,” Lloyd huffs. Yes, you do, is on the tip of Skylor’s tongue, because she’s seen him fight, but she decides not to pick that battle…this time.

“Besides,” Lloyd continues. “I don’t really need a parachute, anyways. I always make sure to aim for like, somewhere safe to land. Relatively safe. Safe-ish.”

Skylor eyes him. “You landed in a dumpster.”

Lloyd bristles in offense. “I did not! It was a perfectly respectable recycling bin.”

“Same thing, if you ask me.”

“Not even close. Dumpsters are gross. Recycling bins you just crash through a whole bunch of cardboard and old newspapers. It’s luxury trash diving.”

Skylor just sighs, shaking her head, and edits the text she’s been tapping out for Kai.

Skylor > found your kid in a recycling bin

Skylor > taking him to lunch bc you’re clearly starving him again

Skylor > he’s alive btw

Kai > oh thank fsm

Kai > tell him he’s grounded

Kai > u never take me for lunch :(

Skylor > maybe if u dropped on me from the sky sometime i would

“Hey, are the others busy?” she asks Lloyd in afterthought. “Like…fighting anyone?”

“Huh?” Lloyd blinks. He then flushes, rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, no. We’d pretty much finished up the fight when I, uh…there was a break-in, on the Bounty? We had the guys all taken care of, but they blew part of the mast up, and it left debris all over the deck, so I kind of…maybe….tripped…”

Lloyd is bright red by the time he finishes the sentence. Skylor wouldn’t feel so bad about it, if she wasn’t doubled over laughing at him in the middle of rush hour traffic.

“You are a trained ninja,” she breathes out, between snickers.

“I know,” Lloyd moans.

“You’re like, part god.”

“I know,” Lloyd moans again, into his hands this time. Skylor has to grab his shoulders and forcibly drag him along down the crowded street, trying not to cringe inside at all the looks they’re getting.

“Kai says you’re grounded, by the way,” she says, as the last of her laughter fades.

That snaps Lloyd out of it. “He can’t ground me,” he scowls. “I’m leader.”

“Stop falling from the sky, and maybe he’ll give it a rest,” Skylor replies, glancing down as her phone buzzes again.

Kai > I’d join u but I’m stuck on prison delivery

Kai > nya’s coming to pick up the demon spawn tho

Skylor > nice I’ve been wanting to buy her lunch

Kai > cruel

“—don’t know what you mean, I don’t fall that often, and most of the time it’s on purpose, anyways—”

Skylor chooses to ignore Lloyd’s slightly-concerning, sulking rambling, and pats his shoulder instead. “Nya’s coming for lunch, too,” she says. “Does ramen sound good?”

“Oh, yeah.” Lloyd brightens, seemingly cheered by the reminder he’s getting food out of this. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten out.”

“I can tell,” Skylor says, eyeing him. “Cole hasn’t been cooking for you, has he?"

“No, but we put Zane on mandatory break so he could relax a bit, and we’re all suffering for it.”

Lloyd and Skylor both jump at Nya’s voice, not having heard her coming up behind them.

“Nya!” Lloyd beams. “Skylor is — ouch, hey, let go!”

“That’s what you get for giving me gray hairs again,” Nya scolds, digging her knuckles into Lloyd’s hair. She looks up from the hold she’s pulled him into, and smiles brightly at Skylor. “Hi, Skylor. Nice to see you.”

“Hi, Nya.” Skylor gives a little wave, watching Lloyd squirm out of Nya’s grasp in amusement.

“So, ramen?” Nya says, giving Lloyd one last elbow in the side before joining Skylor.

“Yeah,” she says. “I was thinking the place down on seventh, the Sobahouse, I think?”

Lloyd and Nya both stiffen, their steps slowing. Skylor pauses, turning to stare at them in confusion. “That’s not the one owned by someone named Mr. Kazami, is it?” Nya finally asks, hesitantly.

“Uh, yeah, it is, actually,” Skylor blinks. “He’s pretty nice, we go to the same grocer on weekends.”

“Ah,” Lloyd says, carefully.

“Hm,” Nya hesitates.

Skylor looks between the two of them, now completely stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She really hopes no one is getting pictures of her like this. There are enough flash articles about the rumored orange ninja cryptid on the internet as it is. “Is that…a problem?”

Nya pointedly stares at the sky as if it’s the most interesting thing she’s seen all day. Baffled, Skylor tries the weaker link. Lloyd swallows, avoiding her eyes as he bounces from leg to leg, as if the mere thought of trying to enter the restaurant is terrifying. Which is mildly alarming, because this is the same kid who power-walked straight into a prison full of escaped violent criminals, his psychotic ex, and his undead murderous dad without hesitation.

“We can’t,” Lloyd finally mutters, staring at the sidewalk. Nya elbows him in the side, hissing “weak link” as she does. Lloyd just glares at her.

“O-okay,” Skylor says, unsure. “I mean, that’s fine if you guys want to go somewhere else. I just didn’t know you…didn’t like this place…”

“No, we do,” Lloyd grinds out, and he looks more embarrassed than terrified now, so Skylor aborts her half-formed plans of speed-dialing Karloff. “We just can’t. Go in, that is. We’re not allowed to.”

Skylor stares at him. “You’re not allowed in? Why not?”

“Because,” Nya forces through gritted teeth. “They banned us.”

“They what?” Skylor gapes.

Nya presses her lips together tightly. Lloyd stares very hard at the ground, as if desperately trying to convince himself to keep quiet. Skylor can pinpoint the moment he breaks, his expression contorting as he throws his hands up wildly. “You blow their electrical system up one time—”

“Oh guys, no,” Skylor groans, before bursting into laughter at him for the second time that day. Lloyd looks incredibly unappreciative, his expression scrunching up in annoyance like she hasn’t seen since that one stupid skating match with Chamille, and that just makes her laugh harder.

“We were trying to save them!” Nya defends indignantly. “It’s not our fault they had weak wiring—”

“I just got a little too into it, it’s — it’s Nya’s fault, she’s the one that said it’d be cool if I tried to do shockwave thing like in—”

“That was a mutual thing and you know it!”

“Oh guys, no,” Skylor wheezes into her hands.

“It worked!”

“Poor Mr. Kazami,” Skylor manages, through snickers. Lloyd’s shoulders slump, his upper lip pouting, and Nya crosses her arms, as if refusing to look ashamed.

“It’s not like the other guys aren’t banned from anywhere, either—”

“Alright, alright,” Skylor waves her hands, taking pity on them. “We’ll go somewhere else.”

“Good,” Nya mutters, as Lloyd exhales in relief. Skylor just snickers again, leading them down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. She bites her lip, shaking her head, before a thought occurs to her.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘it’s not like they aren’t banned from anywhere’?” she frowns. “You guys are banned from more than one place?”

“No,” Nya says firmly, before Lloyd can even speak up. “Forget I said anything.”

Skylor will do no such thing, but she decides it’s in her best interest not to pursue it. Nya is not the sort of person to trifle with, and she does want that ramen.

She gets her answer soon enough, anyways.

2. Ninjago City Aquarium

While Skylor has the early shift on Tuesdays, she does get the afternoons off, which is pretty nice for the most part, if it didn’t mean she’d be bored for the rest of the day. So she hits the grocery store and decides to take the long way home, partially because walking is supposed to be good for you, and partially in hopes that one of the ninja will drop in on her again.

She’s not disappointed.

Granted, a minor explosion going off from inside the Ninjago City Aquarium wasn’t exactly what she was expecting today, but the figures in bright red and white arguing furiously outside the security perimeter are par for the course.

It’s a little odd that they haven’t already rushed in yet, Skylor notes, but with the way they’re loudly yelling at each other in the middle of the street, she figures she’ll find out soon enough.

“No, Kai, it is our civic duty to follow the laws put in place for the safety of civilians—”

“Oh come on, you get brainwashed into a slightly-murderous emperor one time and now you’re a stickler for everything?!”

"One time was enough, Kai!”

“Uh, hi guys,” Skylor approaches the two, hesitantly. “Is everything alright?”

“Skylor!” Kai whirls on her, his eyes wild. “Thank FSM, you’ve gotta help us out — they won’t let us in!” He shakes his fist at the aquarium doors, before springing for the security gate. “Let us in, let us in—”

“Shaking the gate like an animal is not going to convince them, Kai!” Zane pleads, prying Kai away. He shoots Skylor an apologetic glance as he wrangles Kai into a gentle chokehold. “We would greatly appreciate your help, if possible. There’s a low-threat criminal with an unfortunate assortment of weaponry who ran into the aquarium, and we’re legally unable to pursue. If you could try to drive him out, perhaps?”

“I — you — you’re what?” Skylor has the weirdest sense of déjà vu, before it’s lost in confusion. Her head swivels from the frustrated expression on Kai’s face to the pleading one on Zane’s, then to the grocery bags in her hands. She looks back up at Kai, who’s now giving her the puppy eyes. Something from inside the aquarium explodes loudly.

“Sure,” she sighs, handing Kai her grocery bags. “Just one guy?”

“Just one guy,” Kai exhales in relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Skylor, I — hey, are these those snack cakes they made to look like us?”

“Yes, eat them and you die,” Skylor hisses. She turns to Zane, holding her hand out half-hesitantly. “Lend a girl some ice powers?”

“Of course,” Zane nods, letting her take his hand. There’s a brief moment as Skylor melds her power with Zane’s, absorbing the icy force and mimicking it to her own — a part of her notes vaguely that it’s stronger than the last time she borrowed it, but she shakes it off, pulling her hand back and tugging the hood of her jacket up, mentally hoping no one writes another article about the possible existence of a cryptid orange ninja after this.

“Alright,” she says. “Be back in five.”

“Thank you,” Zane says fervently, as Kai sputters, “Hey, why didn’t you borrow my power?”

“Because fire is explosive, and you’ve gotta be banned from here for a reason!” Skylor calls back, ice already misting over her fingertips as she sprints inside the aquarium.

“You’d be surprised,” Kai mutters, after her retreating back.

***********************

“So,” Skylor says, flexing her right hand and wincing briefly. That last right hook she’d thrown at the guy might have been a little too hard, in hindsight. But he was being a jerk, and threatening to set off a bomb near the little seahorses — and it did do the trick, so now the aquarium can have the host of cop cars off its back. Skylor feels pretty accomplished in her good deed for the day, actually. “Why, again, couldn’t you guys have taken care of that yourselves? Not that I minded,” she adds, quickly. Using the ice element had been fun. She’d forgotten what she could do with Zane’s powers.

Kai gives a nervous laugh that’s so fake it almost hurts, especially with the pained expression he makes at the end. Zane just rubs his temple with a hand, looking eternally weary.

“Like I said, we are legally not permitted to enter the aquarium, until…when was it again, Kai?”

“Five years from now,” Kai mutters. “Or whenever the director dies.”

“Yes, five years from now,” Zane repeats, with a dead sort of look in his eyes. “So your assistance was very much appreciated. Thank you.”

“It was no problem, but — wait, hold on, how are you banned from the aquarium for five years?” she stutters. “I mean, I can get Lloyd and Nya with the ramen place—”

“Ha! They told you about that? It was great—”

“Kai, please.”

“—and I can understand Kai, but you, Zane?”

She feels a little guilty for calling him out so bluntly, but it’s Zane. Zane doesn’t just get banned from places, she has to know. And he doesn’t look too upset at the question. Kai looks mildly betrayed, but not that much. They both know Skylor’s point is too valid for him to argue with effectively.

Zane gives another bone-weary sigh. “There is a small chance, that there was a time we were pursuing another villain here, and during that battle, I might have…underestimated the amount of ice I was putting out.” Zane shifts, looking pained. “Which in turn accidentally spread to any bodies of liquid that happened to be nearby at the time, which perhaps were filled with rather expensive aquatic life.”

“You froze a fish exhibit,” Skylor deadpans.

“They were merely in extreme hibernation,” Zane grits out. “They would have been fine, had Kai not tried to fix the ice.”

“Hey, it made sense! I could melt it quickest!”

“Except you didn’t just melt it, did you? No, you had an entire fish fry—”

“The poor fish,” Skylor says, staring at them blankly. “What were they?”

“Like, these rainbow fish, from way up north, I think?” Kai says. “I swear I didn’t make it that hot.”

“The water was boiling, Kai!”

“You fish murderer,” Skylor says, the corners of her mouth trembling with the laugh she’s holding back. Kai glares at Zane, then her, then Zane again.

“I didn’t freeze them solid.”

“Whatever the cause of their death, they died, and we’re banned now,” Zane says, hastily. “End of story. Would you like to take this back to the Bounty, Skylor? I know the others have been wanting to see you, and we can at least offer you tea in thanks.” He eyes the grocery bags Kai’s still holding. “Unless, of course, you wish to return home…”

“Nah, tea sounds good,” she smiles. “Besides, I bought the snack cakes for you guys to try anyways. They’ve got little squashed ninja faces in icing on ‘em.”

“You’re the best,” Kai says, looking somewhat relieved, and oh, he definitely ate one while Skylor was in there. She’s going to have to pay him back for that one…

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she says airily, figuring she’ll take her revenge later. “You can tell me more about the fish massacre on our way back. By the way, Pixal wouldn’t happen to have heard this story, would she?”

Zane gives her a look, and she almost feels bad about it. “I’m going to regret inviting you, aren’t I.”

“Maybe,” she grins. “Jury’s still out.”

3. An Entire Drugstore Chain

Wednesdays are always busy at the noodle shop, for reasons Skylor has yet to figure out. Fridays she understands, but the middle of the week? Nothing kills your drive like knowing you’re going to do this all over again in a day.

It’s good money for the shop though, she reminds herself as she locks up that evening. Any money is good money for the shop, because her stupid dad made sure she’d have a real hole to dig herself out of there, but Wednesday money is always especially good. Even if she ends up leaving the shop late and can’t get the noodle smell from her hair for the next three days.

Normally, she’d trudge home and crash into bed after these kind of shifts. But tonight is different, because she stayed long enough at the Bounty yesterday to get invited to game night, and once you’ve promised the ninja you’re going to bring snacks for Monopoly, you can’t just say no. Not unless you want Lloyd to shoot betrayed glares at you the rest of the month.

Besides, she’s promised Kai she’ll sneak out to the movies with him afterwards, and she can’t just go breaking that promise. Plus, she’s not heartless enough to deny Cole cake when he’s got the most spectacular black eye she’s seen all year bruising up around the left side of his face.

“Lucky hit,” Cole grumbles, after she’s been caught staring too long. She hasn’t wanted to ask him about it, since it seems a sensitive subject and he’s already taking the time to help her pick up (carry) all the snacks. But it’s impossible to miss, even in the dim streetlights they’re walking under, and Skylor cares about her friends, thank you very much. “We busted some drug dealers today, and I got too relaxed.”

“They normally really aren’t any match for you, to be fair,” Skylor offers.

“They weren’t this time either, that’s the sad thing,” Cole says, scrubbing a hand through his thick hair as they wait at the stoplight. “This was all on me. I kinda deserved it.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Skylor tries to console him, even though the ugly red at the edge of his eye says otherwise.

Cole gives her a bleak look. “Jay made a joke, and I laughed at it. And then I got hit across the face with a baseball bat, mid-laugh.”

“Ouch,” Skylor hisses through her teeth. “Never mind, that’s bad. Was it a good joke, at least?”

“No, that’s the thing,” Cole groans, as the light finally turns red, allowing them to cross the street. “It was terrible. And I still laughed hard enough not to notice a bat coming for my face.”

Skylor grimaces. “You were just being a good friend, I guess,” she says, and Cole snorts. “Like you are to me, right now,” she continues, glancing ruefully at the shopping list she’s been sent. “I was going to say I had it handled, then I actually looked at everything you guys asked for.”

Cole laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s…that’s us, I guess. Sorry about that. We’re paying for it all, don’t worry.”

“What?” Skylor blinks. Oh no, no way. The ninja have done enough for her, the least she can do is cover a couple bags of popcorn and like ten things of M&M’s. “No, I got it. I owe you guys, anyways.”

Cole bristles. “No way. We owe you, if anything. The amount of times you’ve covered our tab at the noodle shop?”

“How about the amount of times you’ve saved my noodle shop?” Skylor shoots back. “That outweighs a few measly tabs.”

“The only reason we had to save it was because we were there in the first place,” Cole points out. “We’re danger magnets.”

“I’m sorry, I’m the daughter of Chen, remember?” Skylor huffs. “I can attract enemies all by myself.”

“Not as many as we do,” Cole says. “Also! You helped us beat Chen, and get Zane back. We’re eternally indebted to you.”

Skylor narrows her eyes. “Only after I stabbed you all in the back. So I eternally owe you.”

“Bold of you to assume we haven’t all stabbed each other in the back at some point,” Cole scoffs. “Trust me, you’re nowhere as bad as Lloyd — he like, single-handedly ruined our whole month by letting a bunch of snakes out.”

Skylor pauses at that, torn between refuting his argument and asking how in the world Lloyd, of all people, could possibly manage to wreak enough havoc to—

Actually, she doesn’t have any trouble believing that at all. But to be sure— “Lloyd let the Serpentine out? All by himself?”

Cole looses a bit of his fire, and scuffs his shoe awkwardly across the sidewalk. “I mean, we did give him a pretty hard time when he was like, eight years old and homeless and starving, so uh, it might’ve been a little...provoked.”

“FSM’s sake,” Skylor mutters, staring at the sky and trying not to be surprised, because she really shouldn’t by now. “I can’t believe you guys are all still alive.”

“Neither can we, if it helps,” Cole shrugs, grinning. “But you know, technically—”

“If you make another ghost joke, we’re skipping the cake section,” Skylor says, firmly.

Cole sulks. “Jay would’ve made a ghost joke,” he mutters.

“Jay also got you hit in the face by a bat, so his judgement is questionable as it is,” Skylor shakes her head. “Oh! There’s a drugstore right here, wanna hit that instead?”

“Sure,” Cole says. “As long as it’s not…oh.”

Skylor makes it another three steps before she realizes that Cole’s fallen behind. Confused, she turns to stare at him where he’s frozen on the sidewalk, looking up at the bright red drugstore sign and biting his lip.

“Everything okay back there?” Skylor says, wondering if he didn’t get hit in the head harder than he’s let on. Cole nods, but he also takes several steps back out of the streetlight, hiding himself from view of the store.

“Here’s an idea,” he says, suddenly. “How about we go anywhere else.”

Skylor stares at him, a sinking feeling in her chest coupled with the slowly-growing-familiar sense of déjà-vu. “Cole.” He doesn’t meet her eyes, and Skylor sighs. “Please tell me you haven’t been banned from somewhere, too.”

“It’s not just me, Lloyd and Jay also got banned,” Cole snaps, before realizing his mistake and ducking his head.

“You’re kidding me,” Skylor says flatly, looking back at the drugstore, then to Cole. “This is like, the shadiest drugstore on this side on Ninjago. How?”

Cole mumbles something under his breath, and Skylor strains to make it out. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I kind of, um, threw Lloyd through their wall,” Cole mutters again, looking as if he’d like very much to disappear entirely into the street side. Which is funny, because—

His sentence finally registers, and Skylor blinks rapidly. “Wait, you what?”

Cole’s eyes widen, and waves his arms quickly. “Not like — not like Garmadon-throwing him through a wall! He was fine after.”

Skylor has a brief, bizarre kind of moment to digest the fact that there is a distinction for throwing the youngest of their team through a wall, before Cole continues.

“I was aiming for the window — that one right there, see? The robbers were already on the move, so Lloyd was like ‘launch me, Cole’ and I said ‘great idea’, but we were also maybe high on adrenaline at the time and I forgot how much of my lava punch I had going, so I overshot and ended up smashing him through their wall, a little bit.”

“You smashed him through their wall. Just a little bit.”

“Hey, it worked. He took out all five guys in one go and only had a tiny concussion after—”

“How do you even have a tiny concussion—”

“I still don’t get why they were so mad, I mean we stopped the robbery! Sure, half their storefront wall sort of collapsed afterwards, but like, we got their money back.”

“So that’s why they were closed six months for renovations,” Skylor groans into her hands.

Cole crosses his arms, glaring stubbornly at the store’s sign. “It wasn’t six months,” he protests. “It was only like, four. I don’t see how that gives them the right to ban us for life.”

“For life—” Skylor can’t decide if she wants to laugh at him, or cry because her list of places she can hang out with the ninja is shrinking faster than she’d thought possible. She finally blows her breath out, rubs a hand across her face, and glances back down at the shopping list.

“You aren’t banned from the one on eighth street, are you?”

Cole bites his lips. “We’re uh, banned from all of them. It’s a chain store, so…”

“Of course,” Skylor sighs. “Walmart it is, then.”

And if anyone pesters them about being late, she’s going to ask how many times, exactly, somebody’s smashed Lloyd through a wall. Because really. This is getting ridiculous.

4. Bed Bath & Beyond

Thursday is normally her day off, but whatever she had for dinner last night gave her freaky dreams, so Skylor ends up puttering around the shop early that morning just to take her mind off it. It’s a bit overcast outside, and the forecast predicts rain, so Skylor’s already making plans to curl up in her bed and watch movies all day, and maybe get a bit of laundry done.

She should know better.

It’s a commonly known fact that the ninja, Kai especially, would do pretty much anything for their pseudo-little brother. Skylor’s actually heard Kai, on multiple occasion, threaten to die for Lloyd, then immediately try and make it reality. No one ever really appreciates that, Lloyd especially, but Skylor can give him credit for trying.

However, it’s a commonly overlooked fact that Lloyd would do anything for his pseudo-older siblings. It’s an even more commonly overlooked fact that Lloyd is the spawn of satan, and was raised at a boarding school for future villains and terrible children. Combined, these two facts mean that while you should definitely fear Lloyd trying to die for you, you should probably fear him trying to look out for you more, because it’s likely going to end with somebody dead. Or at least the total disruption of your plans for the day, as Skylor opens the shop windows to come face with an absolutely terrifying expression on Lloyd’s face, followed up by a deadly calm “Kai came home sad last night.”

Skylor scrubs at her eyes, and thinks, it’s too early for this.

A while back, when she was still stuck with her jerk of a father, Skylor might have found Lloyd’s part-Oni expression of doom intimidating. Now, however, she just rolls her eyes, and sticks one of the little ‘50% Off!’ stickers she’s been putting on rice cakes across his forehead.

“The dog died in the last movie we saw last night,” she explains, as Lloyd sputters at her.

He pauses, nose wrinkling. “Oh,” he says. “Boo.”

“Yeah,” she says, stepping back and allowing him to neatly front-flip through her window. Darned show-off kid, she thinks despairingly, watching him land perfectly on her freshly-waxed floors.

“Well, you’re good then, I guess,” he says, expression lightening. “That makes sense. How many movies did you make it into this time, by the way?”

“Only four this time,” Skylor sighs, turning to plaster the rest of her stickers on the nearly-expired rice cake packages. “We caught the beginning of that new superhero movie, then the opening fight of some spy movie, and the middle of that one horror movie with the dolls.” Lloyd shudders. “Yeah, Kai wasn’t a fan either. Anyways, we made it into this new romance one, but we ran into a theater employee on the way in and Kai had a guilt attack, so we stayed until the end of that one.”

Lloyd tsks. “Oh, Kai. And he’s so sold on his bad boy image.”

“One day he’ll embrace the fact that he’s just a big softie,” Skylor nods. “One of these days.”

“Yeah, when hell freezes over,” Lloyd snorts. He glances around at the empty shop, then back at her. “Hey, today’s your day off, right?”

Skylor gets a sinking kind of feeling in her stomach at that, alarm bells going off in the back of her head. “It might be,” she says, warily.

“Good,” Lloyd grins. “You should come to Bed Bath and Beyond with us, then.”

Well, she wasn’t expecting that. “Why…would you be going there?” she asks, blankly. Do they have a secret ninja weapon bargain bin she’s been missing out on? Is Bed Bath & Beyond secretly hosting an illegal crime ring she’s been unaware of? Does she need to return the shower curtain rings she bought there last week on basis of being a good citizen?

“Zane froze the blender solid before practice this morning,” Lloyd explains, his mouth twisting a bit. “We were making smoothies and someone accidentally brought up the Never Realm.”

“Ouch,” Skylor winces sympathetically. She’s still not heard the entire story of what went down during the ninja’s jaunt out of realm, besides a whole lot of panicked texts from Pixal and half-explanations from Kai, but she knows it wasn’t fun, especially for poor Zane.

“Yeah,” Lloyd sighs. “So now our blender is dead and we can’t make smoothies anymore, so we’re buying a new one before Nya can start strangling people. Wanna come?”

Skylor eyes him shrewdly. At face, it’s an innocent enough request. She’s certainly been invited to worse places than a household furnishings store, and picking up a blender is quite possibly the simplest thing the ninja have ever asked her to do. Which probably just means it’s going to go horribly and the store’s going to blow up ten minutes in, but hey, Skylor’s day was looking pretty boring anyway.

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs. “Lemme stick the last of these on, and I’m in. Just — hey, no, I’m selling those!”

Lloyd freezes in place, the rice cake package dangling from his fingers. He gives her the most pathetically sad-eyed look she’s ever seen, and not for the first time, Skylor finds herself wondering how this is the same kid who runs a highly-skilled ninja team of unimaginable power.

“Just the one,” she finally relents, because Skylor is a spineless weakling when it comes to puppy eyes, apparently. Lloyd beams, snatching the cakes up happily. “And just because you look like a starving vagrant again.”

“I do not,” Lloyd protests, through a muffled mouthful of rice cake. “I’m just super in shape. I’m jacked as heck.”

Skylor rolls her eyes. “Sure you are, you — hey, I said just one!”

***********************

So Skylor ends up at Bed Bath & Beyond on her day off, five minutes after the store’s opened for the day, and already wishing she’d slept in later.

Nya brings her coffee, though, and their bright-eyed enthusiasm at reclaiming their means of smoothie-making is infectious, so Skylor finds herself in high spirits as they walk through the store doors, almost to the point where she lets Lloyd go for stealing all her rice cakes.

However, she’s already let him get away with too much as it is, so Skylor decides to take her revenge by ruffling Lloyd’s hair, before informing the sales lady that it’s her “darling little brother’s thirteenth birthday, and he’s finally outgrown his kiddie bed, could you point us to the big kid ones, please?”

Lloyd’s attempts at strangling her are thwarted by Nya as the lady smiles airily, before pointing them to the back, and Zane has to drag Kai along with them before he suffocates on the laughter he’s choking back.

“Family shopping trips are always so much fun,” Jay remarks, as they browse the bedding section, having been successfully distracted by the animal-shaped pillows. They’ve already had to flee the lamp section, after Lloyd and Jay started having a little too much fun, despite Kai’s despair over being robbed yet again of a new lava lamp.

“One day,” he mourns. “One day, I will own another.”

Skylor pats his back consolingly. “I’m sure that’s what everyone else whose lava lamps got smashed by a giant stone colossi say.”

“I still don’t see why we can’t invest in a cappuccino maker,” Nya pouts, as they pass the coffee appliances section. “Look, there’s one on sale, too!”

“Because you can and will abuse the use of it, and then someone will end up going to the hospital for extreme heart rate elevation,” Zane glares pointedly at her. Skylor smothers a laugh as Nya scowls.

“I’m not that bad,” she grumbles under her breath, only for the others to all chime “ice cube incident” in unison. Nya goes a dark shade of red and glares at the floor as if she’s capable of lighting it on on fire with her eyes, but she doesn’t argue back.

Skylor doesn’t even want to know.

“Alright, here are our options,” Cole announces, when they’ve finally fought their way to the blender shelves. “We can get the same one we had, just a little smaller, or we can get this other one that’s half-off.” He squints at both tags. “Having looked at our bank account recently, I vote the half-off one.”

“No way,” Jay argues. “Do you see how small that one is? I can’t make my triple-espresso energy-drink smoothie with that!”

Lloyd stares at him in concern. “That’s…probably a good thing?”

Jay glares at him. “You’re one to talk, Mr. night owl.”

“I’m with Jay, that one’s way too small,” Nya says. “It won’t do.”

“What, and the other one’s better?” Kai shoots back. “Look how cheap it is, I could break this thing in my sleep.”

“The online reviews for both are perfectly fine,” Zane adds, half-heartedly, as if he already knows they’re all going to ignore that particular statement.

“What about this one?” Jay says, his eyes lighting up as he gestures to the extra-large, fancy blender. “Think of all the smoothies we could make, Cole. Think of the milkshakes.”

Cole pinches the bridge of his nose. “We are not investing in some fancy blender, just for you to complain it’s too complicated five seconds in.”

Skylor crosses over to the blenders, glancing at both. “I mean, you could always just return it…later…” She trails off, realizing that everyone’s suddenly gone deadly silent. She looks up, and starts as she comes face to face with the store manager, who is frozen in place, his mouth half-open as he stares at them with wide eyes. Behind her, Skylor is highly aware of six ninja going similarly still, all utterly quiet.

“You,” the manager finally squeaks out. “You are’t supposed to — you can’t be in here, not again—”

“On second thought, let’s get a blender next week,” Cole says, quickly.

“Yeah, I can live without smoothies a little longer,” Jay agrees, rapidly paling.

Skylor’s at a loss. “What’s going—”

Before she can finish that sentence, Kai and Nya both have hands on her arm and pull, hauling her along as they break into a dead sprint for the exit.

“Explain later!” Kai yelps, dodging employees as the manager shakes his fist at them, his yelling following them through the doors.

“I filed six restraining orders! Six!” he shrieks as they slip out. “Do you know how long that took?! Two of them don’t even exist in the legal system!”

Skylor doesn’t miss the incredibly unsubtle fist bump Lloyd and Zane share, nor the near-tears sigh of despair from Cole.

She really, really doesn’t want to know.

***********************

Except that maybe she does, so there’s nothing stopping her from asking as they walk home, having bought smoothies from the corner store instead (that they are not banned from, which Skylor is starting to think might be miraculous).

“I don’t know why I’m surprised at this point, but how did you get banned this time?” she asks them, after a particularly long sip of smoothie. “Did you demolish half the store there, too?”

The ninja are silent for a moment, all refusing to meet her eyes. Then—

“It was Jay’s fault,” Cole declares.

Jay whirls on him, his expression wounded. “I trusted you,” he whines. “And you — you bed bath and betrayed me.”

“Because you bed bath and blew up the bedding aisle!”

“It was the kitchen electrics aisle, give me some credit.”

“Oh, because that’s so much better.”

“It is, do you know how hard I’d have to be trying to blow up the bedding aisle? It’s all weighted blankets and like, silk and stuff, no conduction at all—”

Skylor returns to her previous stance on not wanting to know, sips her smoothie in silence as they break into loud arguing in the middle of the street, and hopes once again that no one’s getting any pictures of this.

5. Jamanakai Village Candy Shop

Friday’s her busy day, so Skylor’s spared any chaos other than a jammed mixing machine for the day. It doesn’t come to a head until Saturday, when she cautiously accepts the ninjas' invitation to scout out potential terrorist activity in Jamanakai.

The terrorists turn out to be punk kids who got a little too obsessed with the idea of the Golden Master, which is an unfortunate choice of role model for them, when they have to face up to the ninja. Zane just looks mildly annoyed though, and Lloyd stares into the sun for a full minute before rolling his eyes, so the kids make it out alive.

“We weren’t going to kill them, geez,” Jay says. “Maybe just…lecture them, a bit.”

“Oh yeah, lecture them,” Kai scowls, cracking his knuckles. “The Golden Master, are they kidding?”

“To be fair, they don’t have the same experiences we do,” Cole points out, but he doesn’t look too opposed to the knuckle-cracking, either.

“No harm was done,” Zane says, a bit wearily. “We should simply let it go."

“I dunno, I say we should’ve hung them from a roof for a bit,” Lloyd says, evenly.

The other ninja all cringe in unison, except for Nya, who smothers a coughing sort of laugh. Skylor stares at them, bewildered. “Why would you hang them from a roof?”

“Not sure,” Lloyd says, his lips twitching. “Probably because crime doesn’t pay, muchacho, or something like that—”

“Alright, alright, we get it,” Kai says hastily, clapping a hand over Lloyd’s mouth.

“The guys would know,” Nya smirks, ignoring the looks of utter betrayal she’s getting. “That’s what they did to Lloyd, wasn’t it?”

“Nya, why,” Jay moans into his hands.

“You — hung Lloyd from a roof?” Skylor repeats, thrown for a loop. “Why on earth would you do that? What if he like, fell and died?”

“He was fine,” Cole assures her, hastily.

Lloyd is quick to protest, glaring at them. “No I wasn’t, it was literally scarring! Look, I got this scar from scraping my arm when I fell — oh, wait, oops, that one’s from the Never Realm, it’s this one here.” Lloyd winces as he finishes, suddenly looking contrite as he shoots Zane an apologetic look. “The Never Realm one was from Boreal though, don’t worry.”

Zane looks down, his face shadowed. “It was still my—”

“Nuh-uh,” Jay cuts over him, wagging his finger. “Remember the rule?”

Zane hesitates, looking as if he’d very much like to remember no such thing, but he finally slumps, relenting. “Scars dealt to each other while under the influence of malicious possession by person and/or ancient malevolent artifacts do not count, regardless of extenuating circumstances or deep inner psychological issues that may be brought to light during said influence,” he quotes dully, on a defeated sort of sigh.

Skylor doesn’t know whether to be impressed at that, or depressed that it needed existence in the first place.

“Exactly,” Jay nods. “Which means that any scars from you, Zane, or Lloyd — oh, and Kai, I guess — and Cole, technically, with the Hypnobrai that one time— wow, that’s, hm, that’s a lot of us.”

“If you count the dark matter, we’ve all been possessed,” Zane says, drily.

“Not me!” Kai says, mock-cheerfully.

Jay shakes his head. “Nobody got scars while we were on dark matter! I checked.”

“Why are you saying it like we were on drugs or something?”

“Speak for yourself,” Lloyd scowls. “I’ve still got that stupid ankle one.” He glares at the offending ankle, as if it’s personally disappointed him.

“That was the Overlord, not us,” Nya reminds him. “And uh, your dad, technically.”

Lloyd’s scowl just deepens, his eyebrows tilting downwards hotly. “If I had a dollar for every scar that’s from my dad…”

“I hear you,” Skylor sighs. “Dad scars are the worst. They really know where to hit.”

“Right? It’s always personal with them,” Lloyd shakes his head. “Dads are the worst.”

A beat passes before they both realize the others have fallen quiet. Her and Lloyd blink, and Skylor fights back the urge to cringe at the looks they’re now receiving.

“Well,” Jay says, bleakly. “This is a, um, miserable turn.”

“Hey, hey, no sad faces,” Lloyd scolds, reaching for Kai’s face, which is indeed sporting a pathetically teary-eyed kind of look. “Get that look off your face, off, off—”

“I’m not — stoppit — I’m just— hey, stop it— that’s my face, you brat—”

“Guys, c’mon, cut it out, you’re making a scene,” Cole scolds, pulling them both apart. “How about we stop and get ice cream before we go, okay? To like, cheer us up. Because that was completely depressing, no offense, guys.”

“None taken,” Skylor says, as Lloyd nods in agreement. Cole looks relieved, even if Kai’s still looking a little weepy, and he directs them down another street, heading toward a brightly labeled ice cream shop. Skylor can see tiny rows of candy inside, and there are a bunch of kids gathered around the little stand the owner’s set up at the door. It’s a cute place, all in all — the candy looks good, and it seems pretty cheap.

So it makes zero sense that Lloyd, of all people, would suddenly go painfully tense in the middle of the street, and refuse to take another step forward.

“I can’t go in there,” he whispers.

Skylor’s having that sense of déjà vu again. The rest of the ninja trade confused glances.

“Uh, Lloyd?” Kai says, hesitantly. “They sell candy in there, you know.”

“I know,” Lloyd grinds out, his teeth clenched painfully together. “I’ve been in there before.”

“You have?” Cole frowns. “You — oh.” Realization dawns in his eyes, and he’s suddenly biting his lip, holding back laughter. “Oh, I forgot.”

“Forgot wha—” Jay looks between the two of them, then back at the shop, before something sparks in his eyes as well, and he doubles over in laughter.

“Shut up,” Lloyd hisses.

“Why are we laughing at Lloyd,” Skylor finally sighs, as Kai and Zane break into barely-stifled giggles as well, and Nya rolls her eyes.

“So, um,” Lloyd swallows, shifting anxiously from side to side. “You know how I said they hung me from a roof? There might’ve, uh, been a reason for that.”

“Of course there was,” Skylor says.

“I kind of threatened them, a little bit, and uh, tried to steal half their shop, one time.”

“Of course you did.”

“Lloyd,” Nya sighs. “That was forever ago.”

“I stole from them,” Lloyd bites out. “If I show my face in there again, they’ll kill me."

“I highly doubt they will resort to murder, Lloyd,” Zane says, flatly. “Besides, you did not actually succeed in stealing anything, because we caught you and hung you from a roof. Remember?”

“Yeah, and then I came back with the Serpentine, and made it worse!” Lloyd exclaims. “Just go in without me, I’ll sit out here and cry.”

“We’re not just gonna leave you outside,” Kai rolls his eyes. “C’mon, let’s mend some old wounds. Just go inside and apologize.”

“I would literally rather die.”

“Lloyd, seriously.”

“I’ve done it before, don’t test me.”

“Lloyd.”

“You can’t make me, I’ll fight you—”

“Alright, alright, we’ll find a different shop!”

***********************

“Okay, I have to know,” Skylor finally asks, as they pass the outskirts of the village, heading back to the Bounty. “How many places are you all banned from, in total? Because this is ridiculous. I can’t take you anywhere.”

“I mean, you can’t take us anywhere even without the bans, anyways,” Cole says wearily. “To be fair.”

“We’re not that bad,” Lloyd protests, only to wilt immediately under Skylor’s stare. “There are just…a few places…”

“Zane, how many is it now,” Nya asks, rubbing her temples.

Zane is quiet for a moment, slowly ticking off his fingers as he stares upwards. “Did we ever decide if that one museum counted?”

“The vote was yes,” Jay mutters.

“And the Explorer’s Club, did we decide that one?”

“I’d say that’s a pretty hard ban,” Lloyd winces.

Nya huffs, crossing her arms. “I still say it doesn’t count, because like, everyone’s banned from there, with their stupid stuck-up membership requirements.”

Zane takes this into account, his eyebrows furrowing. “That leaves us with…seventeen places we cannot return to, I believe? Unless I missed one.”

Skylor’s left wordless, gaping at them. She knew there was a lot, but seventeen—?!

“I’m almost a hundred percent sure we’re also banned from the Never Realm,” Kai points out. Zane gives him the iciest look Skylor’s ever seen. Kai simply shrugs. “What? Just stating the facts.”

Lloyd frowns. “I don’t think we are? I mean, Akita wouldn’t—”

“Oh, Akita wouldn’t,” Jay cuts over him, a gleam in his eyes. “Would she, casanova?”

Lloyd goes scarlet, sputtering. “I told you, she kissed me! On the cheek! I just stood there, you can’t—” He buries his face in his hands, and despite her amusement (and rampant curiosity, because this is Lloyd and kissing), Skylor feels bad for him. “I can’t believe I ever told any of you about that,” he whines, sounding tragically upset with himself.

“You were the one having a mental breakdown over it,” Nya reminds him, almost gently. “You need to work on setting boundaries, bud.”

“It’s not like I didn’t tell her I had horrible issues with romance!” Lloyd throws his hands up, frustrated. “Because I did, in painfully honest detail—”

“And yet you refuse to open up to me about it,” Kai says plaintively.

“Turn into a dog for a bit, you might get lucky,” Lloyd grumbles.

Skylor doesn’t want to know. She really, really doesn’t want to know. “Well,” she finally says. “I do know one place you aren’t banned from.”

They all look up at her, and Skylor shakes her head. “You fly me back to the shop in time for dinner, and noodles are on the house tonight.”

Six faces brighten considerably. “Seriously?” Cole says. “Skylor, you’re an angel.”

“Seriously, the best person ever—”

“Our favorite cryptid orange ninja there ever was—”

“Yeah, yeah, keep flattering me,” Skylor sighs, trying not to smile, and failing woefully.

She doesn’t know why she still hangs out with these people, getting banned from everywhere in the city. What a bunch of nerds.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #nya smith #jay walker #cole brookstone #zane julien #skylor chen #i really have no explanation for this at all #except that i wanted to give skylor more love than i've given her #my fic

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

rereading the whole Nox verse tag, just got to N!Axis meeting the canon Glaives a year pre-Movie. and i had the thought of post-marriage, post-kids Nox (and his Axis, who very much remembers that dimensional trip when they were younger, /Nox/) /also/ meeting - maybe different, maybe /not/ and ooo imagine /that/ - canon Glaives pre-Movie. possibly in the field, but just imagine it in the /Citadel/. if they saw these two bf, they were teenagers, now less than a yr later they're grown and /scarier/

Anonymous said: something i wanted to add to that ask about Nox and Axis visitng the same canon verse they did as teengers, but couldn't because of the damned character limit. At some point during the whole thing, the would-be traitor Glaives see/hear/are told something that makes them actually, really /realize/ why the Lucis Caelums are called Martyr Kings. also Nox casually spills the beans on his traveling to many, many other worlds/dimensions, mentioning the Fall of Insomnia, betrayal, and directly to Nyx,-

Anonymous said: - that in every future he's ever been to and seen, he's not been a traitor in one of them, and generally, he was a little /too/ Heroic in most of them. the way Nox says it leaves not doubt about what he means by that. no one familiar with Nyx is remotely surprised, but even after Nox and Axis leave, they're a bit more conscious of Nyx's recklessness and heroic tendencies. also: "Calm down, Axis, maybe I died when I was a kid here, yeah, but Uncle might not even have a sister, here. Leave it be.”

Me: ohhhhh interesting thought! I like it in the Citadel, maybe a few months after their first appearance (not a full year tho otherwise Game Events would be happening) and some of the glaives are on Citadel Duty (aka Titus’s ultimate punishment via the most boring job in existence) when there’s this- glitch in the world and then the Crownsguard are YELLING because apparently the Crystal chamber just did something weird. All hands are on deck and the glaives are called in with the Guard to watch the sealed off will-not-open-from-the-outside Crystal Chamber doors and the KING is there with his Shield and the Marshal and Captain and then-.

The door swings open from the inside and the argument can be heard as two figures emerge from the room, one growling at the other in a voice that sounds ... eerily familiar to Nyx and the Glaives.

“-to the Matrons for an exorcism so help me.”

“Hey, I’m not possessed OR cursed, blame the Crystal. It likes to mess with me.”

“It’s a non-sentient hunk of rock and magic, it can’t ‘mess with you’.”

“Wanna ...” the two figures stop and study the bristling mass of Guards, Glaives, Royal Retinue, and King, “bet?” the shorter one sighs and Nyx is having a few flashbacks already to That Time because that is DEFINITELY an older, crabbier Axis Arra and the man next to him looks freakishly like a long-haired Prince Noctis.

Who has a marriage braid and an ULRIC BRAID in his hair.

What the Six.

The Definitely a Lucis Caelum raises his hand, small sparks of flow dancing off it in some weird kind of royal greeting, “Hi dad.” he says with a lazy smile that almost hides the tension in his shoulders and the way his free hand is loose and curled around an imaginary hilt of a blade, like he’s about to whip something out of armiger.

The King gapes for a solid ten seconds before breathing, “Noctis?”

There’s a slight twitch, a flinch from the look-a-like and a low growl from the Arra before the Lucis Caelum (and Nyx knows who this kid is, he REMEMBERS that morning, that scrawny boy, and he knows the other glaives do too) smiles sheepishly, “Not quite. I’m Nox. His older brother actually. Though I’m going to guess Noctis is an only child in this dimension.”

So yeah dimensional shenanigans and Prince Nox being infuriately blasé about the entire thing and hanging out with the very befuddled glaives (Nox stares at Nyx for a c!solid thirty seconds while he stares right back until Nyx asks HOW Nox is an Ulric and Nox cheerfully goes “I married you, how else? We have four kids.” And Nyx spends like- the next three days in a perpetual Blue Screen until Axis takes pity on his Internal Scream by explaining that Nyx is a fem in their world. No. No there was no magic involved in the creation of the kiddos where is your mind even GOING Ulric (Nyx: I don’t know! Magic is weird! And alternate dimensions are a thing how was I supposed to know what other fanfic tropes AREN’T anymore?!?!). Nox quietly dies of laughter in there corner.

They keep a wary eye on the C!Arra-Furia-Lazarus trio in case of trouble because it’s been years for N!Axis but only months for them and it’s like- during one of those wary but cordial hangouts that Nox makes his Comment about Lucis Caelums after a long bout of brooding out the window.

“Dad’s dying a lot faster in this universe.”

All the glaives freeze. Even Captain Drautos lowers the report he was reading and pokes his head out of his office to stare.

“What?” Someone in the glaives says.

Nox doesn’t look at them, he’s glaring out the window and with a jolt they realize he’s glaring at the Wall, “Dad. The King. The Wall is killing him faster here. It was killing him in my world too but ... Uncle and I took care of it. I guess ... it’s different here.”

There’s a long pause before Luche’s brain finishes its dial up noises and he scoffs, “The Wall can’t kill the king. It’s his magic.”

“It’s Bahamut’s magic,” Nox corrects coldly without looking at them, “Magic he forced into human skin and veins that isn’t meant to keep it.” As if he can sense their continued disbelief he drawls, “How long can you hold a Shield spell before you get sick? Before you’re exhausted because the magic has gone past your reserves and started taking you as fuel? The Wall is just a giant, city-sized shield.” Tredd makes a noise that might be question or might be a strangled scoff and Nox finally turns to look at them.

There is something utterly inhuman in his gaze. His eyes are still blue, his face is still human, but there’s something in his eyes that speaks to their primal instincts and tells them to run, to hide.

To dread.

“Go to your local library sometime and look up the births and deaths of Kings of Lucis,” he orders in a deceptively light tone that almost makes it seem like a suggestion instead, “compare the lifespans of rulers from before the Wall was raised and after. Then compare the average lifespan of a healthy Lucian citizen at the time of that ruler’s reign.” There’s a beat of silence, terrible and weighty, then Nox’s lips curl into a tiny smile.

It’s a terrifying thing.

“The Kings of Lucis never die of old age. Sometimes it’s sickness, sometimes it’s war. Sometimes it’s assassination. Sometimes they just- die. For no reason science can explain because scientists never take magic into account. Sometimes,” the smile gets colder, the eyes older, “it’s betrayal. Those who are trusted when they shouldn’t, those who should stand loyal when they are not.”

He looks over them all and every one of them feels a chill up their spine. N!Axis leans closer to Nox as if in an attempt to comfort, to snap him out of this eerie mood, but it doesn’t work. “This has happened to me before you know. Going to parallel times. Do you know how my father dies the most often?”

There’s a breath, and when Nox speaks, there’s a hint of other voices beneath his, an echo of times past and souls lost and endless, ageless rage, “By the hands of the glaives he blessed.”

And none of the Galahdians dare to breathe. Those who have been listening to Captain Drautos’s subtle poison more and more these past few months, whose loyalty is not as solid as they pretend and to whom Niflheim’s lies are starting to sound sweet feel stricken, terrified. Like there’s a shadow of a blade at their necks even though there is nothing.

Nox inhales and when he exhales his breath is like frost. The room feels very, very cold, “They sell themselves to the enemy, they wait until his back is turned, and then they kill him. And when those glaives who are still loyal,” here his red-tinged eyes fall on Nyx and there is weight to the gaze, calm promise that of all in the room, Nyx has never been among those Nox has seen become betrayers, “resist and refuse to join in. The traitors slaughter them too. No regard for Clan ties, no regard for oaths or loyalty or any Color beyond Pink and Red and NIflheim’s White.”

Blue eyes are fully red now as he hisses, “And I hate it. I hate that I remember it, I hate that no one ever understands that magic has a cost. That they can study and feel magic strain over and over again for years and yet somehow they never believe that their king is just as human. That it hurts us just as much. Because Lucis Caelums are ‘blessed’,” Nox laughs and the sound is eerie, dripping in memories of things no one living is supposed to see, “as if an Astral’s Blessing is something to be coveted. As if being born with burning, inhuman magic, like a constant spell of fire in your veins and just beneath your skin that never turns off day or night, makes it easier.” Nox laughs again, something dangerous and sharp in the sound-.

N!Axis fearlessly lays a hand on the back of his prince’s neck, “That’s enough, Nox,” Axis murmurs, “come back now.” And Nox blinks, once, twice, thrice.

And suddenly he is normal. The room is normal, the creeping impression of death and old fury is gone, leaving the glaives breathless from relief. Nox rubs his face with a hand and murmurs an exhausted sounding apology, excuses himself for the day to go lie down in the guest suite Regis gave him.

Nyx watches the prince and his Arra walk away and notices that Nox’s hands are shaking, that his steps are not as sure as they were just this morning.

He thinks of too old words and too ancient eyes, of the knowing bitterness when Nox spoke of magic burning just under the skin with no relief and thinks very suddenly that he is glad he is just an Ulric. Just a Kingsglaive. A glance at Luche, Tredd, and C!Axis reveal them to be just as pale, if not more so than the others.

That night, those glaives who had been listening to their Captain’s less loyal talk had a lot of research to do.

And a lot of silence to ponder in horror as they find that every word Nox said about the old rulers was true.

#SE asks #anon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse #Nox verse Main

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damienthepious · 3 years

Note

1) i adore you

2) commentary for. ["I- wait," he says, and Arum stills instantly, lifting his head away with a hiss. "Wait, just- Arum-"] to... well i checked to the end and that was like 1k alfkdjsalfk oop uhh. akldfjlskaf i just love your writing is the thing can you blame me. ok ok ok up to ["I don't care-"

"I do," Arum says sharply, his eyes flashing bright as his frill presses tight to his neck. He shakes his head quickly, then, hissing under his breath, and Damien's insides twist in something like shame, something like fear, something like-]

i hope that's ish 500 words anyway i'm gonna run away now with what little dignity remains

[Pick a short passage from any fanfic I’ve written and send it to me, and I’ll give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet]

hahAHAHAHA OKAY SURE LET’S GO THEN

chapter three! complicated emotions time!!! also. y’know. the “benefits” part of rivals-with-benefits. sorta.

["I- wait," he says, and Arum stills instantly, lifting his head away with a hiss. "Wait, just- Arum-"] despite how weird their physical relationship is, i wanted it to be really clear how solidly based on consent it still is. Damien hesitates, Arum stops.

["Damien- are you alright?" Arum murmurs, his eyes sharp as he traces the shape of the bandages and then meets Damien's gaze again. "I-"] The second time that Arum calls him by his given name in this chapter. The lizard is... worried. Damien gets himself hurt sometimes, and Arum hates it. This, though, is probably the most recently injured that Damien has ever been for one of their little rendezvous, and literally the last thing in the fucking WORLD Arum wants to do is accidentally hurt him more.

["I'm- I'm perfectly fine I only- I know our arrangement and- and I cannot imagine- imagine what-"] I cannot imagine what you are getting out of this. I cannot imagine why making me feel good with nothing in return could possibly appeal to you. I cannot endure the pressure of focused affection without mutuality or i will feel like I am doing something wrong.

[Arum's expression shifts, and Damien knows that the monster understands his meaning despite his verbal fumbling.] ... they’ve known each other for... quite a long time. Arum has a fairly good idea how Damien thinks, and he knows that Damien is overtly concerned with the... say... equivalence? of their relationship. [He rumbles in his chest, a noise between a growl and a purr, and then he lowers his mouth to nip so, so lightly at Damien's thigh, keeping his eyes fixed on Damien's as he does.] He’s trying to bury all his warm feelings for Damien, his urge to... just... comfort him much more softly, but he’s also trying to draw Damien back to familiar, comfortable territory- between the pair of them, at least.

["Honeysuckle," he murmurs. "You are utterly, utterly decadent, and utterly, utterly ridiculous not to understand that about yourself."] I know you won’t understand what I’m saying in the deepest of ways but please please just hear it when i tell you how fucking stunning you are and believe me when I say I want you.

["But- but you aren't-" Damien swallows, bites his lip, rocks his hips helplessly as Arum tongues at the juncture at the top of his thigh. "I'm not-" he tries again, and then he closes his eyes and whispers, "I want to- to- I want you to fuck me, Arum-"] Damien isn’t really listening, though, because he’s busy in his own head, panicking. Feeling inadequate. Worrying about not being enough. He just- he’s refusing to acknowledge his own needs, because he’s busy ASSUMING that he knows what Arum must actually want, despite Arum telling him pretty damn directly what he wants to do.

Fun reversal in this fic! Usually Arum is the one who has issues with constant denial in my fics and, i would argue, canon. In this au, tho, Damien is completely fucking buried in it.

[Damien feels Arum shiver above him, hears his frill flutter with it too, and when he peeks one eye open to check, the monster's face twists with desire and worry in equal measure.] Arum is not immune to Damien voice saying things. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s just that he... y’know... cares about Damien and his wellbeing more than he wants to have sex with him. OBVIOUSLY. Arum also, i think i should note, is worried about making Damien unhappy, only slightly less than he’s worried about hurting him.

["I..." Arum hesitates, his tongue flicking in discomfort rather than a deliberate teasing lick, and then he breathes something like an anxious laugh.] Oh Arum... ["I do not think... I don't think I can, without- without risking your wound, honeysuckle."] Arum stops trying to tease Damien back into enjoying himself, and drops the cool-and-collected act. Plain and simple, he says exactly what he’s worried about. Because it’s important.

["I don't-" Damien winces, reaches down, curls his hand at Arum's cheek and weakly tries to draw him closer. "I want you, I just- I want-"] But Damien is still terrified that he’s fucking this up, that he’s letting down his end of the bargain, that if he doesn’t do this right, then maybe it’ll just be broken forever. He wants to continue- but only for the wrong reasons, now.

["I could hurt you."] even more plainly stated. the most important thing. Hurting Damien is something that Arum is terrified of.

["I don't care-"] Oof! Also, honestly, he does care, he’s just not thinking clearly at ALL, and he’s too buried in his own panic to think through his implications beyond just... trying to convince Arum that they should just have sex, rather than letting Arum focus on him.

["I do," Arum says sharply, his eyes flashing bright as his frill presses tight to his neck.] two things. one, I know i’ve talked about the body language I tend to use for Arum’s frill in fics- pressing tight to his neck is overt fear. Worse than the idea of Arum hurting Damien accidentally: Damien letting himself be hurt to try to make Arum happy. It’s nonsense, and it RATTLES Arum. two! Arum literally says, here, right now, to Damien’s face, I care about you, and Damien, current holder of the title of Most In Denial Knight In The Northern Wilds, just kinda... doesn’t notice. Or, at least, he refuses to internalize it.

[He shakes his head quickly, then, hissing under his breath,] because he accidentally admitted more than he MEANT to, as usual [and Damien's insides twist in something like shame, something like fear, something like-] shame because being turned down sexually is like... very CHARGED, no matter the reasons why or the other baggage surrounding it. fear because Arum sounds so serious and sharp, and Damien knows he’s fucked up. something else- something else that either Damien doesn’t understand, or doesn’t want to think about.

and i’m sure that none of this interaction will shape their future encounters and lead to more misunderstandings or assumptions made in the future!! :Dc thank youuuuu

#elle's fanfic meta #heart beats best #shorter-than-her-tbr-pile #asks

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voidendron · 3 years

Text

okay my turn to ramble about my thoughts on 6.2 now that I can think/type coherently lol

below the cut. 6.2 spoilers ahead (also probably swearing)

first note: I ran Echoes of Oblivion on a saboteur Bounty Hunter (Senya, Arcann, and Theron alive; romanced Torian) and loyalist Trooper (only Theron alive, killed Arcann and Senya) so far, and the flashpoint on the BH only. with that out of the way:

Echoes of Oblivion

Scourge CALM DOWN

When he broke cover to face the Servants I legit facepalmed and hissed his name lol

Teeseven! good little droid causing problems on purpose <3

lowkey happy the Scions are dead. they annoyed me and hopefully we won’t be dealing with them anymore

Revan??? look, I have yet to play KOTOR so the only Revan I’m familiar with is the SWTOR one, but I had to double-take when I heard the voice and had a kind of “wtf him again??” reaction

Servant Four pretty ;~;

the reveal for Vitiate and Tenebrae walking from behind Valkorian??? that was really fucking cool and the Drama kid in me swooned

speaking of Tenebrae... look, I’m a straight dude, but even I can admit he’s fuckin’ hot. whoever designed him, I love you - but now I’m also very salty that hairstyle is gender-locked >:( (also Terrin totally shamed him for not wearing a shirt. he also called her an ignorant child in the final fight lol)

the level design of Satele’s mind was sooooo cool??? it gave me this incessant sense of unease I just couldn’t shake and I love it

MARR MARR MARR MARR MARR

seeing Revan >Your Companion< was incredibly weird jklas;djkds

For Terrin: Vaylin electrocuting Valkorian and then all of the Tiralls advancing on Tenebrae? bahahaha his shift from high-and-mighty to “oh shit” as he backed away was hilarious

for Varrich: Vaylin’s “I like your markings” *zaps Tenebrae* “Do you like mine?” - idk I really liked that. and then Valkorian backing away from the Tiralls was funny. but god I AGAIN felt bad for killing Senya and Arcann in his playthrough, she sounded like she wanted to and would have killed Varrich right then and there if it wasn’t for Valkoriateibrae being the bigger threat

THE ANIMATIONS. lookit that glowup. no one stood awkwardly idle, and I loved it - the first one I really noticed was in the reveal when Valkie and Tenebrae trades places so Tenebrae was in the middle instead, the animations were just so good in this okay

Satele is just a fuckin badass, okay?

Vaylin looking at that student = foreshadowing??? pls don’t bring Vaylin back there’s been enough cheating death and it’s lost its wow factor since ages ago

that final boss fight was so much fun oh my god. like, it was a challenge and Terrin almost died many many times since I don’t know the mechanics for it, but it was such a cool fight??? had a bit of an easier time with Varrich’s run of it since I’d kinda started figuring it out by then

it seemed like a good sendoff for Valkoriateibrae, tho I got Avengers vibes from it

come on, try to tell me that’s not a cool shot

the chat with Satele at the end was nice. look forward to running Echoes with Xaerez and getting Theron romance content <3

also 👀 at Aryn showing up. we gonna get more Malgus stuff with the next bit of story added? I’ve been curious about what’s going on with him

Spirit of Vengeance

note: only ran this with Terrin so far (saboteur Bounty Hunter)

I was fortunate not to get any of the bugs others have mentioned, so can’t say anything in regards to those

Terrin’s stats are as follows:

Pyrotech Powertech, full set bonus (Meteor Brawler), 306 item rating, +41 crit augments in most of her gear, memorized rotations. when it comes to general content, she’s the toon I’m most effective with

with that out of the way:

the bit where Torian cheekily asked if she was worried about him was cute, but a little bummed there wasn’t more romance content with him. even just a hug or another bit of dialogue would’ve been nice

I love Rass okay. I hope we get to see more of him. the way he reacts to the not-so-careful landing by the Commander ripping both wings of their shuttle is really funny and made me love him immediately

this one seemed a lot better than Mandalore’s Revenge was with noting your BH as a fellow Mandalorian

seeing healing stations near regular mob groups had me worried. it’s definitely not an easy flashpoint, and I did have to use healing stations often just to stay alive at points, even in regards to just normal enemy groups because there’s A LOT of them in each group (Pyrotech is squishiest of the Powertech disciplines iirc, but still)

the first boss was. WAY overpowered. take note of Terrin’s stats again, and let me tell you she almost died MULTIPLE times to him even after using the healing stations (note: ALL of the healing stations were used in this fight) AND Heroic Moment/Unity. I have no idea how my less-geared toons are gonna have any chance at it. he has way too much health and deals way too much damage for a solo mode flashpoint and Rass only being influence 1 doesn’t help. to me, he felt like a vet mode boss

it actually felt more like a vet flashpoint in general, with the exception of the other bosses

I love Rass’ comeback to one of the bosses calling him the “tiny one.” have I said I love him yet? because I do

I actually really loved that trap that drops you into the garbage area. it startled me and I thought something bugged at first, but I really liked that bit (tho I can imagine it bugging for people. I’ve seen a few people say it kills them)

after that first boss the others seemed almost ridiculously easy

that was not the voice I expected Kol to have but like. it works for her??? also she cute-

I love love love Kol’s helmet so much

is she gonna be a long-term enemy? kinda hoping she is I really like her and want to see more of her

Someone else noted this already but: Kol = Lok backwards??? is she formerly from Clan Lok/have something to do with the BH’s adoptive clan??

that last cutscene was cool and DAMMIT I have a crush on the antagonist now

all-in-all, I liked the update, good way to finally tie up the Valkoriateibrae stuff and introduce a new villain (tho I feel like the flashpoint definitely needs some changes), and I look forward to what’s next!

#swtor #6.2 spoilers #blitz rambles #blitz plays

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dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt · 3 years

Text

Not me saying I wasn’t going to post any of my writing and then immediately going back on my word, no sir!! I’m actually really REALLY proud of this tho, so... up it goes. His Dark Materials AU for my OCs!

[For those that don’t know, in the HDM world everybody has something called a dæmon, which is the physical manifestation of their soul in the form of an animal.]

Dusk bruised the sky, ugly purple-black with smoke and the oncoming night. No stars dared to tread above this city. Even the moon hid her face.

Below, the streets were populated only by shadows. It was easy to mistake them for one, hunched as they were on the stairs in a dark suit and with their face hidden behind an even darker sheet of hair. Only the ember at the tip of their cigarette separated them from the night.

Footsteps descended down the stairs behind them. Their owner had his hands tucked into his pockets, refusing to touch the brass rails mottled with grime. A staccato of claws clicked between each step.

“You’re late,” the living shadow said, the memory of a thousand other cigarettes burnt into their throat.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to come at all.”

A ribbon of smoke curled from their lips. “Don’t give me that shit,” they said, disgusted. “You always do. You always will. We both know it.”

“You’re in good spirits tonight,” he responded mildly. His name was Dante, and he regretfully knew the shadow too well to be offended. He hated them less than they deserved. His dæmon stood by his side in the form of a large black dog, the feeble anbaric light of the streetposts settling on her fur and gleaming in her calm eyes.

The shadow had no dæmon to be found.

They merely grunted and rose to their feet. They flicked their cigarette away; it carved a red arch through the air before it winked out on the pavement. They started walking.

Dante exchanged a glance that spoke volumes with his dæmon. But they followed, because he did know. They both did.

The shadow’s name was June, and Dante was their only friend (though, that may be too strong a word.) The reasons for this were immediately obvious, not limited to the miasma of cigarette smoke that seemed woven into their clothes, nor their frankly ugly tongue. Their voice was complicated, interesting, but their face was ordinary; long, with stark bones beneath dark golden-brown skin, an interesting nose and eyes the colour of charcoal. They were also abysmally short, the crown of their head barely reaching Dante’s shoulder. He didn’t mention that.

They barely had to flash their card at the bouncer before he swung the door open for them, his lizard dæmon curled nervously along his forearm. June strode through without a backwards glance. Dante gave him a nod.

It was dim inside the den. The air ought to have been stained red for the stench of copper, sweat and alcohol that clung to every breath; Dante thought he could feel the effects of a pint just from inhaling. The walls were panelled with dark wood, packed to bursting with people. Barely people – raucous grins, jostling, laughing, screaming like fiends in human skins. Even their dæmons seemed inebriated, staggering between their legs with tongues lolling against chins. Nevertheless, all parted for June and their silent, bulky shadow.

June didn’t spare them a single glance. They had bred this intimidation, this mystery, fed it with the tender care of a mother and watched its first steps with pride.

“Just keep your mouth shut,” they had told Dante. “You’re unknowable now. Their fear and uncertainty will make you great.”

That suited him just fine. He never was a man of many words.

Darodrey stayed pinned to his side like a moth to a board. The angle of her ears still read as calm, but she had begun to pant in the crushing heat of the den. He rested a soothing hand on her head. He could feel her anticipation crackling beside his own. They never felt quite so alive than when they were in these ratholes.

He drew back the shabby curtain that sectioned off the preparation quarter, allowed June to step in first. He pulled it to behind him, hands immediately dropping to unbutton his short coat. It fell to the floor, revealing an expanse of scarred olive skin and the lines of thick muscles. He opened the tin set to the side on the bench.

“Nova,” June told him, low. “Dumb as a barrel of shit, but he hits like one too.”

“His dæmon?” It was Drey who asked, as Dante slid a guard over his teeth. The shock of his dæmon speaking to them had been worn away by familiarity long ago.

“A mountain lion.”

Drey noted, “Also stupid.”

Dante pulled a white roll from the tin and began to unwind it around his knuckles. “Only Nova?”

“Mitchellson could be taken as well, if you’re fit after the first.”

“I’ll take him.” Dante flexed his fingers experimentally. “A bear, right?”

“Black,” June confirmed.

Maybe I’ve finally found a challenge, Drey murmured to him and him alone.

Dante secured the final bandage. “What do we get for both?”

“Enough.” June tilted their head, their hair falling against the blade they called a jaw. “As long as you don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t.” He couldn’t.

They’re depending on us.

They, they, they. The two men currently warming his bed with their dreams, wound together in a lover’s knot. Maybe they did depend on him, but not in a way that led into an underground fighting den. That would break them to know.

A roar went up from behind the curtain, more ferocious than any bear. Darodrey’s fur rose along her spine, lips pulling back in fierce delight. Dante rolled his shoulders, knocked his knuckles together till they ached.

“Get out there,” June said, and then their hand closed claw-like over his wrist. “Do not disappoint me, Diệu.”

With the adrenaline biting in his pulse, he didn’t even deign to answer that. Instead, he merely gave them a measured look and pushed through the curtain. Darodrey’s tail whipped out on his heels.

June watched after him for a moment. Their expression was unreadable, their fingers hovering over the red kerchief folded in their breast pocket. Then their jaw set, and they followed him out.

Dumb as a barrel of shit seemed to be the perfect way to describe Nova. His angelic name didn’t look like it belonged to the brutish man with a vividly new scar wound across his bald head. His eyes were, by all means, bright blue, but even they looked dull in his face.

To his credit, he wasn’t prancing or hopping like he was on hot coals, like some of the other peacocks Dante had fought. He simply leaned against the metal links behind him, taking in his competition from under furrowed brows.

Dante ran his eyes up him, down him as if in a mere cursory glance. His fingers were still purple with fresh bruises, darker on his left hand than his right. The muscles in his arms were massively developed. He was also very actively trying to convince Dante he held his weight on his right side. He was concentrating on it harder than he was concentrating on breathing.

Meanwhile, Drey was summarizing her opponent. She found her wanting – the same dull eyes, patchy pelt and a tediously swaying tail.

“Don’t be arrogant,” he told her.

“Vrox is right. You confuse arrogance with confidance too much.”

“It doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

“Utter modesty never got anyone anywhere, Dante.” She stretched out one hind leg and then the other, unbothered. “We wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think we were the best.”

Dante hesitated. Something troubled curled like lead in his stomach.

“Pay attention,” she warned.

Their opponent and his dæmon had leaned to their feet. The crowd was stirring around them, a great wave of excitement, raw in the way only betting could achieve. Dante knew three quarters of those bets were on him, and he knew that would chafe at his opponent’s pride. Sure enough, he saw something close to hate flicker in Nova’s deep-set eyes.

The referee pushed between the two men, a smile fake and white as a skull’s wide on his lips. He dove enthusiastically into his usual spiel, but Dante tuned him out. He could recite it in his sleep already. He watched the lion dæmon’s claws unfurl from their sheathes, ticking lightly against the floor. Her eyes were locked on Darodrey. On her throat.

Good luck with that, bitch, Drey growled.

The bell sounded early, ringing clear above the crowd’s uproar. A look of frightened consternation darted across the referee’s face, but he did the sensible thing and tossed aside his dignity to sprint out of the way of the two fighters. Not a second too late, either: Nova came at Dante like a boulder in an avalanche.

Nova jabbed with his right hand, but expectedly the blow was weak enough for Dante to smash it aside with his forearm and return one of his own. It snapped Nova’s head back, snapped something else as well. Blood splattered down his chin, his nose a pulpy mess. His dæmon hissed in pain.

There was definitely hate in those eyes now.

Dante flicked some of the blood of his hand as Nova came at him again. A grimace crossed his face as Drey fastened her teeth deep enough in his dæmon’s foreleg to scrape bone, but his next punch whistled toward Dante’s face. Dante had to duck to the side to avoid it. It clipped his ear instead of knocking out his teeth, and Dante didn’t bother straightening, just slammed his fist into his stomach.

The angle was wrong, but Nova folded anyway, and Dante jerked his knee up. It caught his chin was a satisfying clatter of teeth. Nova fell backward, and cried out – not for himself, though.

Darodrey had his dæmon’s neck between her jaws and was shaking her violently, back and forth, back and forth as if she were trying to rip clean through to her spine. The lion twisted under her, loose skin bunching, and ripped at her face with jagged claws. Darodrey fell back reluctantly with red dripping from her mouth, snarling like thunder.

Claws, teeth, fists, two fights tangled into one. The noise was atrocious. Curses smudged into growls, roars, the sound of flesh ripping, skin and bone colliding.

Nova kicked Dante’s knee, forced him to down or risk a break. An arm found its hold around his neck. The demented cheers of the crowd dulled as if Dante had submerged his head underwater. Blood pounded thickly in his ears.

No time for fear, no hesitation. He grabbed Nova’s wrist in an iron grip and began to inexorably pry it away from his throat. Nova grunted from the strain – from surprise – his weight wavering on Dante’s back. The moment he could draw in a breath, he gathered himself and threw. Nova slammed into the ground, every scrap of air rushing painfully out of his lungs. His dæmon yowled. Dante was only half surprised when he rolled to his feet and came at him again immediately.

A sloppy mistake. To stay on the ground would mean the end of him, but to swing so quickly, so desperately, with his weight falling now onto his left side–

Dante left an opening. Waited.

And there was the left hand, twice as fast as the right, angled to catch him on the chin and knock him senseless.

Dante caught the punch by the wrist. He saw the panic flash in Nova’s eyes and waited just one moment more to let it set in, let him feel it. Then he twisted his arm under his own and drove downward with brutal efficiency. The bone shattered, and Nova screamed.

It was a ragged noise, an animal noise, the same that his dæmon gave as she writhed on the floor. Drey took advantage of the distraction by sinking her teeth in her shoulder and flinging her against the metal barrier.

Dante let the momentum carry Nova forward. The other man crashed to the floor, clutching at his arm. Dante noted distantly that he could see a shard of bone poking through the ripped skin at his elbow. Distant, far-away, nothing. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t a man. He was the roaring in his ears, the blur behind his eyes, the molten heat coursing through his veins. He was the mechanical action of kneeling over him, caging him in his knees, and smashing a punch into Nova’s cheekbone, feeling it give. Then his jaw, the imprint of the teeth within against his knuckles. Blackening an eye, splitting a lip to ruin. One punch ran into many. Raining until Nova resembled something out of a nightmare.

“Enough, enough or you’ll forfeit, I swear you’ll forfeit–”

He paused. There was a frantic, quiet voice in his ear. The referee had been trying to hold his arm back, but he hadn’t felt any resistance as he destroyed Nova’s face. Nova, whose body was a wreck. Nova, who he held between his knees.

In his mind, Jesse smiled up at him. His hands smoothed down his stomach, his thighs. Curious and trusting.

Nova groaned, blood bubbling from his lips.

Abruptly, Dante was sure he was going to be sick.

He staggered to his feet and lurched through the open cage door, shoving through the crowd. He would leave smudges of dark, dark crimson on their clothes wherever he touched them, he knew, but they couldn’t seem to get enough of it: hands showered down on him, patting, smacking, gripping, pushing and tugging. He could hear Darodrey snarling, only white noise that buzzed in his ears.

He burst through the back door into the reeking alleyway beyond. He stumbled against the wall, nails drawing bloody streaks down the uneven bricks. He stood there, and he shuddered.

But he wasn’t sick. He was nothing at all.

Darodrey whined and pressed her nose into his palm, licked at his trembling fingers, trying to clean off the blood. He could still feel the gore caught between her teeth. The torn flesh of a soul – such a terrible thing.

Diệu, Diệu, Diệu, she whispered.

The nothing coalesced slowly, becoming simply the bricks rough against his forehead. Out here in the cool and the smoke, the clouds had made good on their promise: a thin veil of rain misted the streets, gathered and trickled down between Dante’s shoulder blades. It should have steamed where it touched his skin, but it didn’t, because nothing here was pure. It tasted like soot in the back of his throat.

The door crashed open behind him. The violence echoed in his ears.

“They need you back,” June said, sharp as broken glass.

Dante didn’t reply.

“I said get back in there, Dante.”

Darodrey said, “No.”

“What.” The accent of the city made their voice flat and vicious. They turned their gaze to the dæmon.

The one without a soul, she thought.

“He hates this,” Darodrey said. She looked back at Dante, her eyes fathoms deep, gleaming starlike. “We hate this.”

“Liar!” June snapped. Drey laid back her ears. “You can be sweet with your boys as much as you like, you can pretend to be a husband and a friend, but this is you. This is what you were made to do, and you enjoy it.” A snarl twisted their voice.

Dante stood still for a terribly long time. An eternity, hanging in the faint drizzle, printed in stinging flesh. Jesse would call it a postcard moment. He knew it would never leave him, even when it was nothing more than a memory.

June let their words sink in in silence, their nails biting red crescents into their own palms.

Then Dante pushed off from the wall and it was a horribly efficient, broken motion. He straightened, wiped the beading rain from his face with one bloodstained hand. He didn’t look at June, nor Darodrey, but as he turned back to the den she moved with him, closer than his shadow. The roar and the heat thundered through the door to welcome them both.

June was left standing in the alley alone.

“This will ruin them,” Thyne said. It shifted where it hid tucked behind their breast pocket, wings fluttering in the place of their heartbeat.

They said nothing.

#Drey is a Hmong docked tail dog #and Thyne is a shrike #my writing #Dante #June #my OCs #I'm so fucking proud of this asdfghjkl #......... sigh.#long post #look at me actually trying to edit something for once lmao

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unikornu · 4 years

Photo

Page 6, Enterprise

(re-written)

As the night already fell upon Nuka Town the duo decided to delay the first trip till morning and give the new Overboss much needed sleep. But with the patio windows broken and exposing the whole area she just couldn’t relax. After turning around way too many times, side to side, she jumped out of bed pulling the knife from under the pillow and walked to the Porter’s room.

- Hey...listen. She looked from behind the wall to make sure she is not disturbing the raider and to her relief he wasn’t sleeping yet either, sitting at the table and tapping buttons on the terminal.

- Ye, Boss? He turned his curious eye to her.

- Do you mind swapping beds for few nights? I just...can’t sleep in the open like that. Makes me nervous. She approached him with crossed arms, looking at the him and then at terminal.

- Seriously? You prefer to sleep here, in my shithole? He shat down the terminal, screen blacking out.

- Yes. She sighted. - Fuckin, please?

- Okay okay, u don’t have to ask like that. Just don’t dig around my shiet, Boss. He stood up, grabbing his rifle and left towards the patio.

- Thanks. She whispered and waited till the she could hear the door closing behind him in the hallway before giving terminal another look. - Hm....he even knows how to use them, i wonder for what tho....

She couldn’t resist the temptation and sat down at the table, turning the screen back on. She looked over the panel, noticing some buttons with a small scratch on them and hacked herself in after few tries. Numerous messages showed up, old ones from Colter but also few from other leaders. The one on the top appeared coming straight from Mags the same day. Lucy spotted a pack of cigarettes opened next to her and snatched one. Upon lighting it she paused as the note started showing up lines, mentioning her and the vault.

- Ekhem. Gage grunted low, leaning on the wall, not precisely happy with her current occupation at his table, smoking his cigarettes.

- I took just one, i swear. She left the smoke in the ashtray and stood up from the table, turning off the screen.

- Nosey type, are you Boss? He smirked at her and walked to the table, pushing the button again and looking at what she was reading. - Look, Boss. We also need to know what we deal with, which is well, you. You don’t look like anyone else who walked here and with your....uhm posture. Of course folks got curious what’s the freaking deal with ya. He handed her the smoke back. - Since you took it already, might as well finish it.

- I have to be aware of my surroundings too Gage. Trust was a luxury for me, before the war. I mean....She scratched the back of her neck avoiding his look nor continuing onward.

- So Mags and her suspicions were right. You are from the fucking vault, hell from before the world went to shit. His eye opened wide, looking at her and waiting to share a bit more.

- World was shit even before, believe me. Now its just more...dirty and no one gives a damn bout politics since guns are answer to every problem. She pulled out her lighter and flickered a fire towards him as he took out a cigarette as well.

- And what was your position before, Boss? You mentioned you ran with some gang. He looked down at her, curiously.

- I was just a private tool of some important criminal figure back then. Gathering data...killing some people on a way but the pay was good and since justice proved to be blind and corrupted i found my place there, eventually. She shrugged her arms and finished the smoke, crashing it in the astray placed next to him on the table. - That’s all you need to know for now. What about you, Gage? What is it that you are trying to play behind my back and Colter’s before?

- What ya mean, Boss? He raised the eyebrow.

- Don’t play me a fool. I heard things, he didn’t want to be a leader, you talked him into it and when it longer suited you, you got rid of him. You want also to treat me like a puppet attached to your strings? To be thrown away later when i slip away? I know a lot about being in someone’s grip, ohh trust me. She squinted her eyes at him.

- Fuck, look. I’ve been in this raider shit for a long time but i went through a lot of crap too. People always pissed on my advices, trying to make the gangs something more than just bunch of drugged, stupid savages and in the end i was the one always ending up with a gun to my head. I want to survive just like everyone in this shit but i want to be smarter bout it, if ya know what i mean. He released a cloud of smoke her way, sighting.

- And how that approach goes with trusting each other in the end? She shook the smoke cloud away from her face.

- We don’t have to trust each other. We just need to do the job and keep our heads on the fuckin neck. And then count the caps, Boss. He crashed the cigarette in ashtray with his thumb.

- Sounds familiar...she whispered.

- Then it might be easier to do if it sounds so, Boss. Get ya rest, tomorrow we head out, at last. He snatched the pack of smokes from the table. - Also i’m takin it before you steal all of em. Lucy kept her word this time and went straight to bed as the raider disappeared in the patio.

----

- So where should we head out first? Lucy asked as she was strolling towards the exit, early morning with Gage by her side.

- It’s your call afte rall but i think, Bottling Plant would be the best first strike. They both fastened their steps once on disciples territory.

- Why? She asked.

- Mirelurks...if we let them nest there any longer their numbers will only fuckin grow. Gage handed her a pistol with a fairly long muzzle. - Also take it, you can’t go on everything here with just a freaking knife, Boss.

- Fair enough. She took a pistol and pushed it behind the belt.

As they were walking through the desert land, covered thickly in dry tall grass, surrounded by just old, silent music of the pre-war park Gage could feel a bit of tension in the air as they weren’t talking almost at all.

- I don’t like to talk much myself Boss but...that will soon feel awkward even for me. He pointed out.

She looked up at him and shook her head. - I just ain’t used with much company since...you know. And i would rather be focused for now that....

- That we don’t trust each other, yet. Okay, Boss.

As they arrived to the park the glow of the river almost blinded them, the blue quantum tone shining in the air, raising from the fluid flowing out of the tunnel.

- That’s gonna be..sticky, ugh. Lucy left the sound of disgust as they stepped into the cola river and headed inside the tunnel.

- I sure ain’t pushing a boat for that sweet ass of yours. She looked at him with her mouth half open but decided to just leave that comment behind.

- I have one more question Gage, before we go fishing for crabs. She stepped up on a small garbage lump mixed with mud, shaking her leg off the cola. - You have like hundred of raiders there, why only the two of us is taking care of it?

- Because they already took their part before, in taking the Nuka Town. I cannot decide which park will belong to whom, they hate me for now, i told ya and if you leave that decision to them...well, there will be half less raiders and hell of a more problems to fix. He explained brushing off some droplets that landed on his cheek.

Suddenly the lump started to move beneath Lucy and mirelurk raised from underneath it with her still trying to hold herself on top of it.

-Shit. Raider fed it a few bullets, more than he expected, in a face before its pincers would cut them both. Upon falling Lucy got thrown away to the river.

- Fuck, ughh. She appeared shortly, standing up all wet, her skin glowing from the concentration of quantum and hair sticking to her face. Gage couldn’t hide his smirk as they carefully moved onward. - Let’s leave questions for later, Boss eh? She agreed.

They were ripping through the mirelurks onward, Lucy swiftly approaching them, shoving the knife under their protective shells in a soft meaty structure, Gage face looking more and more annoyed from a guide voice and glow of nuka cola. Walking through the water was also more tiring for the legs so as they arrived to the staircase leading towards the generator room they didn’t hesitate to force open it. They got welcomed by something more dangerous than a pair of pincers clacking in their faces. A red bright beam of laser pushed them apart to the door frame as it welcomed them upon entering.

- Fuckin assaultron. Gage armor was hissing from the heat it caught from the laser, releasing a thin cloud of smoke into the air.

- No time for chit chat. Lucy didn’t hesitate with taking action, approaching fast the machine and shoving the blade into its eye. She jumped back as it started to spin around, waving its claws, reaching her wrist in the process and throwing her to the ground. -Fuck, take it off me!

Gage didn’t hesitate either, shoving bullets at it on a way and kicking the robot off her. They bashed it together till it was no longer showing any signs of movement. - Thanks, Gage. She checked her lower arm for any wounds.

- Don’t mention it Boss, we are partners after all in that small fight of ours. She looked at him, her expression softened.

- Lets see what’s down there and then clean the rest.

-----

The generator was pumping quantum so much they could barely look at it, bright, almost toxic for any human gaze. They stumbled upon a small camp, or at least what it looked like with remains of it.

- Gunners, again. It must be part of that patrol i heard about on a station. Lucy searched the bodies, finding some notes and ammunition, more advanced than what raiders currently had.

- There is more of them coming here? Gage asked.

- Yes, they wanted to come with the last train but i ruined their trip. She smiled under her nose and handed him some of the ammunition.

- Good call, Boss. We managed to push them back on some old bridge but since then they just duck there. Now i know why.

- They wait for reinforcements from outside, to push again. They nodded at each other and started heading back.

- We will take take of them before that happens. Fuckin gunners, always sitting like a goddamn pin under our asses. Gage growled softly, under his nose and looked at Lucy as she stopped at the terminal near the generator.

- Just give me a sec. I want to see what that button does. She leaned and tapped some buttons on the keyboard.

- Big red buttons never do anything good, Boss. Gage joked and watched her working.

- This one indeed might not to anything good, but only for the rest out there. She pushed the button with her fist, nearby metallic door forcefully opened with an impact revealing a red-white massive set of power armor.

- Holy shit. Gage whistled, almost tempted to jump right in and kick some ass.

- Cmon, get in. It looks like it still has some power. Lucy jumped to see if the core spot was still filled with something. Gage grinned at her idea, opening the structure and hoping right in. - Now let’s crack us some seafood, Boss.

-----

Gage ran and slammed the door open along with a mirelurk, leading to the outside parking of the building. As Lucy was trying to catch up with him the signal appeared on her pipboy and a message. It was Institute with their sudden directions in the current place.

She leaned on her knees to catch a breath as she finally caught up with Gage outside. - Go check the upstairs, i will make sure there are no more eggs around that pond and make sure the queen never arrived here.

- Alright, Boss, just be careful. Gage nodded and headed up, stomping heavily onto the metallic structure of the bridge. As Lucy made sure he is out the sight she slam kicked some eggs laying around the water, stepping slowly in, with her pipboy stretched forward, weird red beam of light seemed to scan the surface, screen showing a progress bar. As it finished she stepped out in a rush, still not sure if its fully safe but after a few seconds another confirmation message poped up, with directions for the reward drop spot. - That was easy. She smiled and ran back up to join Gage and give him half the news.

- Porter was laughing, stomping onto the big lizard body, smashing it into a paste in a process. He did enjoy his time in a suit, indeed.

- We are lucky, there is no queen. Was....that last of them? She pointed at the mix of scales and guts splattered around, raising her brow.

- Looks like it Boss. Now for the last part of this job. He stepped out of the power armor and handed her three pieces of rough looking cloth pieces. - This is your decision and only your Boss to whom you give that territory.

- A flag? Really? That’s what’s gonna keep em away from beating each other for it? She looked over them, symbols of each painted in a decent, artistic manner.

- Surprising i know, but it will. They are still simple fuckers so these rules works for their dumbass heads. He pointed towards the tall pole. - Pick one and show them we mean business this time, get things moving at last. He patted her back as she turned away.

Lucy walked towards the pole, shuffling the flags in her hands and trying to decide on one. As the Operators showed the most promise to her and Lizzie gave her a hand on a gear she chose them as the first gang to get the hands on fresh piece of land. She attached the cloth to the rope and pulled it vigorously, Gage was smiling in the back.

- Done. That should turn away all these doubtful looks. At least from the Mags boys, and there still might be some caps around, its a fuckin factory after all. She handed him the rest two flags back and looked at the armor. - Does it still have some power to take it back with us?

- Not much but it should make it to the Fizztop. Gage walked up to her, his eye gazing on her in a calm manner. - Good job, Boss. I can’t believe we actually fuckin doin it.

- You did most the fighting for now Gage. She looked up at him.

- But you filled the missing cogwheel we needed here, to get us moving. Hope ya wanna keep it up like that, Boss. It looked almost weird seeing a soft smile appearing on this rough face of his, showing up a feeling of missing promise he wanted so much to deliver.

- Since i didn’t trip on your leg to my “accidental” death yet i guess we are good. She joked and smiled back at him for a second and looked away towards the power armor. - Now how about you give me ride back?

#fallout 4 #fo4 #nuka world #lucy's diary #lucy feit #porter gage #screenshot #thrax's action poses #re-written

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shima-draws · 5 years

Note

Remember that one episode in Gravity Falls where Stan loses a bet to Mabel and does that stan-wrong-dance?? Can you write a drabble where Ford finds the footage pls the imagery is so freaking funny lmao

[[Send me a fandom/ship/prompt and I’ll write a drabble for it!]]

I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I FINALLY FINISHED…I had a total blast writing it tho!!

I kinda took your prompt and went way beyond the original concept anjsakbnda so there’s some angst in here because Stan’s a self-sacrificial idiot and Ford almost loses his shit, but I hope you like it nonetheless :’)

Also this ended up being nearly 4k words so. Yeah. That’s why it took so long LOL but hopefully you got more than what you asked for!

This is also on Archive, if you’d rather read it there!

——————————————————–

Ford is absolutely furious.

Now, he’s no stranger to anger, having fallen victim to it many, many times throughout his life. His bouts of rage usually result in catastrophe if he isn’t careful. A prime example: letting Stan get kicked out of the house forty years ago. Or, when his irritation caused a fight between them that ended up in Stan’s permanently scarred shoulder and his own thirty year trip into the multiverse. It’s never simple and it usually doesn’t end well, especially if Stan happens to be on the other side of the argument.

This time, however, is a bit different.

It’s one thing if his brother has done something to piss him off. It’s another if Stanley does something so unbelievably stupid it scares the absolute shit out of Ford. He doesn’t like being angry. He doesn’t like being angry as a result of him being terrified even more.

And so, he’s taken to pacing in his study, trying to let off some steam. He’d separated himself from Stan after lecturing at him for twenty-five minutes about the very many reasons why Stan shouldn’t have charged right into battle against a particularly violent group of bullasps (an enormous wasp-bull anomaly hybrid, helpfully named by Mabel). Stan had come this close to being pierced by one of their enormous stingers—and if he had, well. The venom they secrete works so quickly Ford doubts he would have been able to do anything about it in time. And that is what had triggered his hysteria.

Mabel sits on one of the oversized chairs in the room, munching on a bag of popcorn. She’d followed him after his frustration had shot through the ceiling, needing to get away before he said anything he’d come to regret. Dipper had stayed behind to admonish Stan further, but not as harshly as Ford originally had.

It’s been almost a year since Ford and Stan left Gravity Falls to travel the world together. They’ve had plenty of arguments and heated late night discussions on board the Stan O’ War II, but they’d never escalated to this level. The two of them hashed out all of their past history and mistakes, and they’ve been attached at the hip ever since—but Stanley’s always had a bit of a reckless steak, and Ford will never admit it, but he’s unbelievably overprotective of his twin, especially after the whole shooting-him-with-a-memory-gun thing. (They try not to talk about that, much, mostly because it makes Ford feel so guilty it brings him to tears, and Stan hates seeing him like that.) This sort of takes the cake for every previous situation where Stan has willingly put himself in danger on their journey out at sea. Ford can’t remember the last time he’s felt so high strung.

“I just can’t believe him,” Ford hisses, his fingers tangled in his hair. His heart is still pounding, fear spiking through his veins and making him as taught as a bowstring. “Out of all the reckless, most monumentally moronic—”

“I know you’re upset, Grunkle Ford, but we took care of it!” Mabel points out, trying to be helpful. She does sound worried, though, if her expression has anything to say about it. “Those things ran right off after I used that cannon to shoot that t-shirt into the woods! Who knew bullasps are actually attracted to red things? I thought regular bulls hated the color red!”

Ford can’t help but smile a bit at her observation. “Actually, regular bulls are red-green colorblind, Mabel. It’s not that they particularly dislike the color red, it’s the action of a matador moving their cape that stimulates hyper aggression in—wait, wait, that’s not the point!” He heaves out a sigh. He turns to her and frowns. “Do you—do you even know why I’m so furious with Stanley right now?”

Mabel makes a funny sound with her mouth, her legs kicking back and forth, and then she answers. “‘Cause he shook his butt at them and told them to shove it where the sun don’t shine?”

Ford groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. Could Stan have any less tact? The children are almost 14 now, but still.

“That’s part of it,” he grumbles. “But it’s his insistence on constantly throwing himself headlong into danger before even considering the consequences of doing so. Stanley is—he’s ridiculously defensive of his family, which isn’t a bad quality to have at all, but…it gets him into unnecessary trouble. A lot.”

Mabel looks truly concerned now, which is good. “Is that why you looked like Dipper in the middle of a Wendy crisis when Grunkle Stan almost got hit by one of those super giant sharp and pointy stingers?”

Ford considers telling her that the venom would have killed Stanley in minutes, but then decides he should probably spare her those morbid details.

“Yes. It would have been…very catastrophic if he’d actually come into contact with one.” Ford slumps, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I’ve come this close to losing him once, I…the mere thought of possibly losing him again, and him ending up somewhere I couldn’t ever possibly reach…”

His throat tightens and he feels pressure building behind his eyelids. Emotion makes his heart feel like it’s being constricted, squeezed tight, and he swallows. He’d gone half his life without his brother and he regrets every single minute he didn’t spend by Stanley’s side. Almost losing him to Bill was a huge wake up call, and Ford’s barely been without him since then.

“So that’s why you’re so frowny,” Mabel chirps. Ford can’t tell if she’s totally oblivious to the seriousness of the situation or if she’s just trying to act upbeat for his sake—but he appreciates it either way. “You were pretty scared for him, huh, Grunkle Ford?”

Ford wipes his eyes and nods wordlessly. In the past he might have brushed her off but he knows better now—his family is the most important thing he has, and confiding in them when times are difficult is usually the best course of action.

The young teen hums thoughtfully, scratching her chin, and then her eyes practically light up.

“Wait, hold on! I have an idea,” she says excitedly. Her smile turns wicked. Oh, no. Ford knows that look. He’s been on the receiving end of it many times before.

“Grunkle Ford, have you seen the Stan Wrong Song?”

Ford tilts his head. “The…what?”

Mabel giggles insanely. “The Stan Wrong Song! It’s a song we forced Grunkle Stan to sing after he lost a bet to me.”

“Stanley lost a bet.”

“Uh-huh!”

“To you.” If Ford didn’t know her so well, he’d think she was lying. It’s extremely hard to believe, knowing how brilliant his twin is in the conning department.

Her grin becomes wider, if that’s even possible. Her braces glint in the dim light. “We bet to see who could make more money—me, taking over Grunkle Stan’s position as a morally ambiguous tour guide, or him on vacation. And I won the bet by a dollar! A dollar, Grunkle Ford!”

“Incredible,” Ford breathes, shaking his head.

“We made him sing it at least thirty-six times,” his nibling tells him. She really could give Stan a run for his money with how mischievous she is.

“Or, wait, maybe it was thirty-eight? Anyway, it was a whole lot! We were all singing it for weeks. The power of catchy made up songs prevailed! Grunkle Stan says he hates it, but I hear him singing it in the bathroom sometimes when he thinks I can’t hear him!”

The older man chuckles at that, amused.

“Anyway,” Mabel sing-songs. “Since Grunkle Stan was a dumb-dumb and almost got speared today and scared the bejeebers out of all of us, I think this is a good opportunity to bust that video out and give him a good ol’ dose of shame!”

“You truly are a peculiar girl, Mabel,” Ford says in wonder.

The brunette beams at this, her smile almost blinding.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his wrist. Her grip is surprisingly strong, and so is the way she tugs him along with her. “It’s payback time! Revenge tastes sweet, like gummy worms!”

——————————————————–

Ten minutes later they’re seated together in the living room, prepared for the show. Mabel has already plugged her phone into the TV, which can broadcast anything she wants, thanks to a helpful little device Fiddleford had made for the family a while back. (It definitely helped when Ford wanted to show off all the videos he’d taken while he and Stan were out at sea on a larger screen for the whole family to watch.)

Stan is nowhere to be seen—which Ford supposes is a good sign as any. He’d rather not have Stan confiscate Mabel’s phone before Ford even gets to watch whatever the young girl is intent on showing him. Dipper’s probably still keeping watch over Stan, so that’s reassuring. He’s sure that there’s nobody more capable of watching his twin, except maybe Soos.

Mabel is practically vibrating in her seat, posture tense with excitement, and Ford fidgets. He’s honestly not sure what to expect—but when the video finally loads and the first thing he sees is Stan in a neon orange track suit covered with sparkles, Ford blinks in shock. He definitely didn’t expect that.

His twin looks like he’d rather be chased by a horrendous monster of the deep than perform in front of the camera, and the deadpan expression on his face has Ford releasing an amused snort.

Stan glances offscreen, gruff and irritated. “Ugh, l-look, I’m not gonna—”

Mabel’s voice interjects before he can finish protesting. “Do it!”

Stan begins to bounce as a song plays in the background. He looks so goofy doing it that Ford starts to giggle a little, the stress of the day rolling off his shoulders.

“I’m Stan and I was wrong.” Stan sings, dryly, with all the emotion of a desert cactus. “I’m singing the Stan Wrong Song.”

Something in Ford breaks, then—and he’s laughing, incredulously, sort of struck dumb by the whole situation. Mabel sniggers beside him. Stan starts to swing his arms, and Ford wheezes. His brother looks so foolish. Ford is absolutely reveling in it. (He’s so using this for blackmail material later.)

“I shouldn’t have taken that chance. Now here’s my remorseful dance,” Stan finishes, pouty and clearly embarrassed.

“Do the kicks!” Mabel’s voice calls out again, and Stan makes a feeble attempt at performing a kick, to which she demands them to be “Jazzier!”

It’s when Gompers comes in and starts a tug of war match with Stan that’s one for the history books that Ford loses it completely. The entire thing is just so wild and hysterical that he can’t help it, clutching at his side as he laughs and laughs and laughs. The video resets, going back to the beginning, and Ford happily sits through it again.

By the time the video loops for the fifth round Ford is howling with laughter, nearly bowled over by the force of it. His side has a stitch and it hurts and he’s pretty sure he’s crying but he can’t stop, too overwhelmed at the hilarity of his brother in a sparkly suit singing a song clearly meant to humiliate him—and maybe it’s the fact that Stan had had another close brush with death earlier and the built up tension from the incident that has him letting it all out through his chortles. Mabel is giggling madly beside him—whether she’s laughing at Stan or laughing at him laughing at Stan is unclear, but it’s contagious, and Ford can’t stop smiling.

God, how utterly ridiculous this all is. He loves his family.

The video is on its eighth loop and Ford is pretty sure he’s going to pass out from lack of oxygen when Stan bursts into the room, his eyes wide. Dipper follows close behind.

“What’s going on in—Ford?!”

Stan rushes over to him, his face drawn up in concern, and Ford’s heart melts a little. He might still be angry at his twin for scaring him half to death, but really, Stan’s mother hen tendencies never fail to make him smile.

“Ford—Jesus, you’re cryin’, Sixer! What the hell happened?”

Ford giggles and wipes the tears from his eyes, struggling to get his breathing back under control. “I’m—ahaha! I’m fine, Stanley.”

“With all the noise you were making, I thought you were dying,” Stan says with a worried frown. “It sounded like you were in pain or—”

Ford playfully rolls his eyes and nudges him in the shin with his foot.

“Now you know how I feel.”

Once he finally settles down, and when Mabel’s tittering fades, Stan finally registers the video playing behind him. His face immediately goes ash white, his expression quickly morphing into one of utter horror, and if Ford weren’t so wiped out by nearly laughing his ass into unconsciousness he’d probably start doing it again.

Dipper sees what they’re watching and he snorts, covering his mouth to hide any further giggles from coming out.

"Mabel, pumpkin?”

Mabel is the picture of pure innocence, her smile sickly sweet. “Yes, Grunkle Stan?”

“Either I’m having memory issues again or I swear I made you promise me in confidence that you would never ever show this video to Ford,” Stan says, slowly. His grin is wide and almost terrifying. If Ford didn’t know how much Stan loves Mabel he would have thought his twin was seriously considering strangling her. “And what did you do?”

“I showed the video to Ford,” Mabel says, looking shameful. She twirls a piece of long brown hair around her finger. Ford chokes back a bark of laughter at how well she’s pulling this off.

“Don’t be too hard on her, Stan,” Ford soothes in an attempt to curb his brother’s embarrassment. “She was only trying to help.”

Stan simply pouts, and suddenly all Ford can see is a young boy, cheeks bright red from the sun, childishly complaining about having to wear glasses because he thinks it’ll make him look like a nerd. Something warm blooms inside Ford’s chest and he bites his cheek, trying not to get lost in the memory of their childhood.

“How is this helping anything,” Stan mumbles, his cheeks flushing a charming shade of pink.

“It’s teaching you some humility,” Ford states, crossing his arms. “Maybe you should sing it again, Stanley.”

“What?!” His twin barks in outrage.

“He does have a point, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper provides helpfully from where he’s now lounging on the couch with Mabel. The video continues to loop, much to Stan’s chagrin. “You did do something wrong today.”

“Wh—are you still on about that? My god,” Stan groans, throwing his head back. “I was trying to be, ya know, heroic! Live up to my title.”

Ford is tempted to kick him again, but harder. His glare makes the other man wilt slightly.

“You already live up to your title, Stan,” Ford points out. “You don’t have to throw yourself in front of a beast with a toxicity level of 94 percent to prove that.”

“94? Holy crow, that’s high,” Dipper squeaks.

“You’ve already saved the world and paid the price for it once,” Ford continues. He slumps a bit in his chair, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to him. “Please, Stan, you have to understand—there’s no point in trying to protect us if we lose you in the process. It’s just…just…” And he shakes his head, frustrated that he can’t put it into words properly.

“Okay, alright,” Stan says sheepishly, edging closer to where he’s sitting. “I get it. I didn’t mean to scare ya. It’s just habit for me to be self-sacrificial at this point.”

“That’s a terrible habit!” Mabel accuses.

“She’s right,” Ford mumbles. “If you hadn’t…if that stinger had come into contact, you would have…and then I…I…” He chokes up, his eyes watering. His heart clenches painfully, fear making his body feel like it’s encased in ice. “If I lost you…”

“Hey, easy there on the waterworks, Poindexter,” Stan teases lightly. He holds his hands out in a pacifying gesture. “I’m fine, see? Still in one piece. Mostly.”

“This isn’t funny, Stanley! How can you still refuse to comprehend—ugh!”

Ford is nearly tearing his hair out in frustration now, his teeth grinding together. Seriously, how can his brother still be such an idiot? He thought the lecturing and the clear distress the rest of the family is expressing would be enough to make Stan realize, but—

Stan folds his arms, huffing, and Ford notes that his face is coloring again. Mabel and Dipper gaze at him curiously, and before Ford can question his twin, Stan releases a soft, irritated noise from his throat.

“I’m Stan and I was wrong,” Stan mutters.

Ford blinks in shock.

The other man sighs, a deep-sounding one that slackens his posture. “I’m singing…the Stan Wrong Song.”

Mabel makes a high-pitched keen of excitement, and Dipper grins. Ford almost falls right out of his chair.

He isn’t sure what’s more surprising—Stan willingly putting his pride on the line, or begrudgingly singing about his mistake in front of the family, who he knows are more than capable of holding this against him.

“I shouldn’t have taken that chance…”

Stan edges closer until he’s standing over Ford, his cheeks the color of a ripe apple.

“I’m sorry, okay? Now will you please forgive me already?”

Something lodges itself in Ford’s throat, and his whole body feels as if it’s being flooded with warmth. Even after all this time, Stan still puts his want for Ford’s forgiveness over everything else. His heart glows.

“Stanley…”

“Don’t gimme that look,” Stan grumbles, refusing to meet his eyes.

The older twin beams and launches himself out of his chair, scooping his brother up in a hug.

“Wh—Ford?!”

Ford nuzzles happily into Stan’s hair, grinning wide.

“Thank you, Stanley.”

“What! You cannot leave me out of this family hug action!” Mabel cries, leaping off the couch to run over and throw her arms around her Grunkles’ legs.

“Squeeeeze!” She says, squeezing them tight. Ford laughs jubilantly and Stan rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile that refuses to go away on his face.

Mabel presses her nose into Stan’s leg for a moment, and then she looks over her shoulder at Dipper.

“Come on, Dippin Dots, you know you want in on this!”

Dipper rolls his eyes but slides off the couch nonetheless, coming over to circle them before ending up beside Ford in the group hug.

The young girl starts giggling, a happy, wonderful sound that makes Ford’s heart swell like a balloon. He feels all sorts of fuzzy, the euphoria of being with the people he loves the most—and with his twin, his other half, the person who almost gave his life for him today—making him burst into merry laughter as well. Soon enough Dipper joins them, and finally, Stan is roped into it, their laughter too contagious to ignore.

When they finally all calm down, Ford nudges his head against Stan’s temple. So maybe he’s feeling a bit clingy now, so what?

“Next time you do something like that again I will sneak horrifying body-altering concoctions into your coffee,” Ford tells him way too cheerfully for someone who’s threatening possible disfiguration.

“Yikes, Sixer. What sort of crap did you learn how to do on the other side of that portal?”

“I know how to disembody someone in a total of 103 unique ways,” Ford responds brightly while he rubs his cheek against Stan’s shoulder, hiding a grin into his shirt.

Much to his delight, Stan stiffens beneath him, and Ford almost laughs.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Stan gruffs, patting him on the back. He pauses. “…Again.”

“Hey,” Dipper playfully elbows Stan. “Grunkle Stan, you didn’t finish.”

Mabel’s entire face lights up, and her smile is blinding—and devilish. “Oh, that’s right! You didn’t finish, Grunkle Stan! You have to commit to it all the way!”

Stan looks down at them, puzzled. He tries to squirm out of Ford’s hold but Ford just hums and hugs him tighter, his forehead pressing against the man’s shoulder.

Stan promptly gives up on getting free (because he knows from experience once Ford starts clinging it’s all over). Instead, he addresses the younger twins with an air of confusion.

“What are you gremlins going on about? Finish what?”

“Your song, silly!” Mabel chirps.

Dipper nods, his smirk matching his sister’s. “Yeah, you didn’t sing the entire thing. Or even do the dance! That was a pretty lackluster performance if you ask me.”

Stan’s face draws up in horror. “Oh, no.”

Ford leans back, but doesn’t detach himself from their interwoven limbs. Giving Stan another dose of shame, as Mabel put it, sounds thrilling right about now.

“You know, they do have a point,” he says, pretending to mull it over. He can’t stop grinning. “I’d love to see the most recent rendition of the Stan Wrong Song, from start to finish. Wouldn’t you, kids?”

“Abso-lutely!” Mabel almost screams. “I’ll have to go get my camera!”

Dipper nods, a hand on his chin. “Oh, yes, yes. Gotta have it.”

“You are the worst,” Stan hisses, his entire face matching the color of Ford’s sweater.

Ford laughs for the millionth time that day, his body feeling lighter than air.

——————————————————–

After that, they make him sing it a total of seven times before finally giving mercy. Stan swears he’s never going to do anything super dangerous again until he does two days later. Then the whole process repeats. LMAO

I can never get enough of Pines family fluff it makes me weak in the knees and oh so happy

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