#''i... Guess i could give them. uh... underbelly??''
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fr users when an ancient is released: this could've/should've been a modern >:T
me when a modern is released: fuck i wish this was an ancient
#i hate that i like fathoms as much as i do#bc how in the fuck do i scry with no linebreakers#im so used to my lair full of ancients that i dont know how to make a good modern anymore#:(#''i... Guess i could give them. uh... underbelly??''#and even outside of linebreakers ancients have some of my favorite genes#mochlus/riopa. topcoat. diamond/spade. sphinxmoth/hawkmoth
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SO uh... Remember that time I came up with all those Warrior Cat versions of the Danganronpa cast? Well guess who's been chronically addicted to playing Clangen for the last month.
I made these using a program called CatMaker which is based on Clangen, but unfortunately there doesn't yet exist a function to export the cats you make so you can play with them in the game. So this is the next best thing I could do
I'll give you a minute to try to guess who everyone is based on names and appearance if you want to, then come back and read under the cut
Alright you back? Ready? Ok then!
Hopeclan:
Leader: Luckstar (Makoto Naegi): Young long-haired brown tabby tom with green eyes
Deputy: Violetstripe (Kyoko Kirigiri): Sleek pale gray tabby she-cat with scarred paws and amber eyes
Medicine Cat: Ashflower (Hiroko Hagakure): White she-cat with gray patches and pale blue eyes Apprentice - Lightpaw (Komaru Naegi): Pale brown tabby she-cat with green eyes and a white underbelly
Warriors:
Goldenfang (Byakuya Togami): Pale ginger tom with blue eyes
Riverstream (Aoi Asahina): Sleek solid brown she-cat with blue eyes Apprentice: Flipperpaw (Yuta Asahina): Brown tabby tom with blue eyes
Wildclaw (Toko Fukawa): Bony gray battle-scarred she-cat
Grasstail (Yasuhiro Hagakure): Slender brown tabby tom with a long tail tipped with white Apprentice: Paintedpaw (Jataro Kemuri): Brown and white tabby tom
Bluesong (Sayaka Maizono): Blue-gray she-cat Apprentice: Spottedpaw (Kotoko Utsugi): Tortoiseshell she-cat with amber eyes
Flamestrike (Leon Kuwata): Ginger tabby tom with a shaggy pelt Apprentice: Runningpaw (Masaru Daimon): Dark ginger tom with blue eyes
Finchwing (Chihiro Fujisaki): Small pale ginger tom with amber eyes
Thunderclaw (Mondo Oowada): Large ginger tabby tom
Patchbelly (Hifumi Yamada): Plump black and white tom
Stormeye (Kiyotaka Ishimaru): Dark gray tabby tom with thick fur
Paleflower (Celestia Ludenburg): Slender black she-cat with white paws
Lightningheart (Sakura Ogami): Large muscular brown and white she-cat with amber eyes Apprentice: Rainpaw (Nagisa Shingetsu): Pale gray tom with blue eyes
Beachclan:
Leader: Loststar (Ultimate Imposter): Large thick-pelted white tom
Deputy: Spikefur (Hajime Hinata): Brown tabby tom with green eyes and a roughed up pelt
Medicine Cat: Mousetail (Mikan Tsumiki): Skinny brown and white she-cat
Warriors:
Brightmeadow (Sonia Nevermind): Beautiful white she-cat with blue eyes
Sharpfang (Kazuichi Soda): Gray tabby tom with amber eyes
Owlclaw (Akane Owari): Muscular dark brown she-cat
Lionclaw (Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu): Small pale ginger tom with amber eyes
Volebelly (Teruteru Hanamura): Small brown tabby tom with a plump belly and unusually small eyes
Berrytongue (Mahiru Koizumi): Dark ginger she-cat with amber eyes
Silverheart (Peko Pekoyama): Lithe pale gray she-cat with amber eyes
Blinkheart (Ibuki Mioda): Calico she-cat
Sunleaf (Hiyoko Saionji): Small pale ginger she-cat
Mudleap (Nekomaru Nidai): Large brown tabby tom
Nightstripe (Gundham Tanaka): Dark gray tabby tom with different colored eyes, one amber, the other blue
Hopeheart (Nagito Komaeda): Very skinny white tom with a long shaggy pelt
Rabbittail (Chiaki Nanami): White she-cat with amber eyes
Songclan:
Leader: Songstar (Kaede Akamatsu): Pale ginger tabby she-cat with a white belly
Deputy: Ravenpelt (Shuichi Saihara): Jet black tom with blue eyes
Medicine Cat: Sunnyflower (Angie Yonaga): Small white she-cat with blue eyes Apprentice: Poppytail (Himiko Yumeno): Small ginger she-cat with a short stubby tail
Warriors:
Foxclaw (Maki Harukawa): Tortoiseshell she-cat with a white belly and amber eyes
Fernpelt (Rantaro Amami): Long tailed pale ginger tom
Tinyclaw (Ryoma Hoshi): Unusually small gray tabby tom with short stubby legs and a battle scarred muzzle
Silverspider (Kirumi Tojo): Slender silver tabby she-cat with pale green eyes
Squirrelleap (Tenko Chabashira): Brown tabby she-cat with long legs
Snaketail (Korekiyo Shingujji): Slender dark gray tom with amber eyes
Goldenberry (Miu Iruma): Pale ginger tabby she-cat with blue eyes
Beetleheart (Gonta Gokuhara): Very large and muscular thick-pelted tabby tom
Sparrowfeather (Kokichi Oma): Small black and white tom
Moonflight (Kaito Momota): Thick pelted dark gray tabby tom
Sparkfoot (Kiibo): White tom with ears, paws, and tail tipped black
Bonus :)
I'd tell you who these guys are, but yall are smart, I think you can figure it out yourself
#danganronpa#warrior cats#clangen#danganronpa trigger happy havoc#danganronpa goodbye despair#danganronpa killing harmony#I'm not tagging everyone go fuck yourself
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Valicer Not-Incorrect Quotes, Valentine's Day Edition
Alice: [seeing a Valentine's Day display in a store a couple of days after New Year's] Ugh, really?
Victor: [looking over] Oh -- uh, that is a bit soon, isn't it?
Smiler: [also looking over] Hey, it's not as bad as it could be -- Valentine's is only a month away! It's not like they're promoting St. Patrick's, or Easter.
Alice: True, but still -- you'd think they'd give us some sort of a break between holidays. [rolling her eyes] Of course, Valentine's Day is just an excuse to sell people terrible chocolate and useless tat anyway. Do we really need a whole holiday that says "oh, if you don't bury your partner in flowers or drag them out for an expensive dinner, you don't really love them and you should--"
Alice: [stops as she notes Smiler and Victor both looking very awkward]
Alice: ...you two like Valentine's Day, don't you?
Victor: [weak smile] I -- uh -- well -- i-it's nice to have an excuse to make a bit of a fuss over you two?
Smiler: I have an ugly sweater and everything.
Alice: ...you know, I really should have guessed.
--
Smiler: [dressed in a black sweater covered in bands of yellow and purple hearts, presenting a pink-wrapped box to Victor with a big grin] Happy Valentine's Day, Victor! I come bearing gift!
Victor: [dressed more soberly in a blue sweater, smiling and offering Smiler a yellow-wrapped box in return] Happy Valentine's Day, Smiler. Here's your present.
Smiler: Thanks! [takes their box and nods to the one they gave Victor] Go on, open it! It's a weird little novelty item, but I'm sure you'll like it!
Victor: [chuckling at their enthusiasm] All right, all right. [opens the box and blinks] What -- is this --
Smiler: A phone shaped like a piano? Yup! Found it online -- I know nobody uses landlines anymore, but I figured you could put it on your desk, maybe use it as a paperweight.
Victor: [grinning, pressing the keys] Oh, this is fun -- thank you so much! [a little shyly as he nods at Smiler's present] I-I hope you like yours -- I found it online as well, and t-thought it would be perfect for you!
Smiler: Hey, I'm sure it's great! [opens up the box -- and stops dead, staring]
Victor: [leaning over] So, ah, this is an antique alchemy set -- it's got all the original bottles, though I'm pretty sure none of the ingredients are any good anymore, and all the original measuring tools and such. And a really tiny grater, which I thought you'd think was funny. I just -- I know i-it's probably too expensive, but I really wanted you to have it, and --
Victor: [suddenly noticing Smiler's face] Are you crying?!
Smiler: [hastily wiping their eyes] No?
--
Victor: [with Alice now, handing over a smaller, thinner blue-wrapped box a touch awkwardly] Happy Valentine's Day, Alice. I, uh, I got you something.
Alice: [wearing a red sweater because she's not totally immune to dressing up a bit for the day, smiles and reaches into a bright red bag] Happy Valentine's Day! I got you something too. [pulls out a navy plush dragon with a turquoise underbelly and gold-colored head fringe, ear fins, and claws] Taa-daa.
Victor: [eyes light up as he sees the dragon, accepting it with a bright smile] Oh! Alice, this is lovely! Do they have a name?
Alice: Well, the Douglas Toys website called them Aragon, but you can call them whatever you want. I remembered you liked dragons from those stories you told us about imagining having "Blue Ben" from Klive as your friend as a child, and stuffed animals are the one traditional Valentine's Day gift that I myself like, so... [little shrug]
Victor: [hugs the dragon] It's wonderful. Thank you. [shoots a slightly-nervous look at his box] I-I hope you like mine just as much.
Alice: I'm sure I will. You know better than to get me something ridiculous. [opens up her box...and just stares for a moment]
Victor: [shyly, still hugging his dragon] So, um, I found out about this blacksmith who recreates all sorts of weapons, and I commissioned them to do your Vorpal Blade. T-that's why I was so intent on drawing it before -- I w-wanted to make sure I had it just right when I sent it on. I -- I know i-it's probably a bit m-much, but -- I know how much W-Wonderland, and that blade, m-means to you, and when I realized I could g-get you a real one, I just --
Alice: [leans over to silence him with a finger on his lips, a little teary-eyed but smiling] You have absolutely no sense of proportion and I love you.
Victor: [blushes]
--
Alice: Hey, Smiler?
Smiler: What's up?
Alice: I had a question -- is it usual for metamours to exchange gifts on Valentine's Day?
Smiler: Depends on the relationship, I'd say! I don't think there's any hard and fast rules -- some people might consider it too much, some people wouldn't. It's all about the vibes!
Alice: I see.
Alice & Smiler: [look at each other in silence for a moment]
Alice: [produces a yellow gift bag]
Smiler: [produces a heart-paper-wrapped box]
Alice: [snorts] Right, I don't know why I was worried... Anyway, happy Valentine's Day! [offers the bag]
Smiler: Happy Valentine's Day! [trades the box for the bag and looks inside] What -- oh! [pulls out a little plush yellow-banded poison dart frog] Where'd you get this little guy?
Alice: Found it online -- I very much wanted to get you a plush frog, but as you might imagine, most of them are green. So I started looking for someone who did them in more unusual colors, and happened to stumble across that. Very lucky accident, that.
Smiler: [petting it with a couple of fingers] Very lucky indeed -- thanks! Now open yours!
Alice: [does just that, pulling the paper off the box to reveal] A checkerboard cake kit?
Smiler: Yup! I know you like cake, so I was going to get you a basket of cake mix and frosting mix and sprinkles -- but then I happened to see this while in the store and thought it was definitely your thing! After all, you've got a chess-themed land up there to go with all the card stuff!
Alice: [smiles] I do -- and I've seen checkerboard cakes before, and always thought they looked amazing. Could never figure out how they did them, though -- now I guess I've got the chance to find out!
Smiler: Exactly! [winks] See, it's not all useless tat.
Alice: [sticks her tongue out at them] Yes, yes...
--
Alice: [walking to Victor's bedroom with Smiler] So -- an entire antique alchemy set?
Smiler: Yes, it's fucking amazing, I really gotta show you later. And he seriously got you the Vorpal Blade?
Alice: Commissioned it from an actual blacksmith -- I'll have to show you later. [shakes her head] Just -- it's incredible, and I love him so much, but -- it does make me feel a little bit bad for spending under forty dollars US on his present.
Smiler: Hey, no, don't be like that. I didn't spend that much on his either, but I'm sure he liked it. This isn't a contest we have to win. [small smile] Which is good, because he's the one with money and would win easily.
Alice: [laughs] I know, I know. But -- well, it would be nice to have a little extra reassurance that he liked mine too, you know?
Smiler: Yeah, I suppose I wouldn't mind that my --
Smiler: [stops as they come to the open door of Victor's bedroom]
Alice: [raises an eyebrow] What?
Smiler: [beckons her to stand next to them]
Alice: [does so, looking inside]
Victor: [is sitting at his desk, setting up his new dragon so their front claws are resting on the keys of their new piano phone, beaming]
Victor: [feels eyes upon him and turns around] Oh! [blushes a little, rubbing the back of his neck] I -- B-Benny wants to play the piano too.
Alice: [smiling warmly] So I see.
Smiler: [also smiling warmly] Good for Benny. [smile turns a little -- predatory] Though it's a good thing he's looking away, because I don't think we're quite done giving you presents yet...
#valicer#not incorrect quotes#victor van dort#alice liddell#smiler alton#valentine's day#yes I know I can't believe it took me this long to do a Valentine's set either#for some reason it just never occurred to me!#maybe because before I was more intent on making sure I got my Valicertines done...#but yes here is a set that's basically about the trio's first Valentine's together#I do see Alice as someone who doesn't really care about the day herself#but who will happily indulge her more romantic/silly partners#and yes I had to have Victor get Smiler that alchemy kit I saw in the Dead Boys Detectives gifset#and Alice a real Vorpal Blade#they're just such 'him' gifts for the people he loves#the Valicer In The Dark version is going to get Alice and Smiler similar gifts early in their career as the Three Pillars#to help them build up their playbook kits you know?#as for what Alice and Smiler got him#well I reblogged that pianophone post because I thought it would be perfect for Victor and it felt like a Smiler present#and I've established before that Victor likes dragons and Alice would be the kind to get stuffed animals for people#I NEARLY had her get him my own silver plush dragon Dougie#but then I remembered the whole 'friends with Blue Ben the Klive dragon' thing I established in Forgotten Vows#and was like 'no wait it has to be the blue Aragon variant'#(not sponsored link is just so you can see what the plush looks like)#and after Alice got a plushy for Victor I figured she'd get one for Smiler and since I'd established frogs are their fave animal...#and checkerboard cakes are just something I think is cool and we know Alice loves her cakes XD#and yes Smiler is talking about what you think they're talking about at the end there XD#because of course they are :p#queued
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You have a PhD in Grimology so what are some cool things you've noticed about Grima's Dragon/True form like the double jaw? (Also, Moray eel Grima?? Double Jaw?? it fits. Guess I know what grima would be as a mermaid)
Oho, well, I once paid 6 whole dollars for the ebook version of the English-translated Fire Emblem Awakening artbook, so I am privy to all sorts of fun Grima anatomy facts, like...
Grima has WAY more than just 6 wings
You know those things Grima has on their neck? For years I thought they were made of the same thing the horns are, but then in FEH they kind of flap around, so I was horribly confused...
But it turns out they're actually wings!
Now you're probably wondering how many neck wings Grima has... The FEH sprite only displays 2 (so counting the ones on their other side, that would be a total of 4), but...
The concept art seems to suggest they go allll the way down the neck...
I count 5 in this part where Grima is flying in the air (the whole scene is unfortunately very hazy... I think they were perhaps hoping nobody would be able to get too good a look at Grima here. Unfortunately that has not stopped me from trying to anyway.)

But SoV Grima seems to have at least 6 pairs? Maybe 7?
So yeah, I can't give you an exact number of neck wings, but I would definitely recommend going with more than 2 pairs. The FEH sprite was clearly simplified. I'm confident they're supposed to go all the way down the neck.
Now let's see, what else...
Grima has legs.
"Back legs are used as tertiary wings." So yeah... I don't believe we've ever seen Grima standing, but theoretically, it could happen.
To be 100% honest, I am not entirely convinced they actually gave Grima's model legs... and to be fair, nobody in Awakening gets well-defined feet, but even SoV Grima's tertiary wings look a little... vaguely flipper-y to me, as opposed to the concept art's clearer design... But once again, I feel like we probably are not supposed to be scrutinizing Grima's every detail quite this closely.
(Humans were never meant to stare at Grima for as long as I have stared at this image.)
And then, uh... Okay, you may have noticed this in the image I showed you of the concept art neck wings...
Grima's underbelly "seems a little soft."
I... don't know what this means for Grima, exactly. I know what it brings to mind for ME, though (tummy rubs, oh my god this dragon needs a tummy rub... yes, hands would be bitten, but it would be for a good cause).
We know Grima has a weak point on the nape of their neck, but this makes me wonder if perhaps the underbelly is vulnerable, too? The endgame fight on Grima's back does take place with Origin Peak (a volcano) under them... Seems like a pretty good strategic move for dissuading people from just assembling a bunch of archers to shoot at Grima from below. You can try, but Grima might be able to make that volcano erupt, so do you really want to risk it?
Just some food for thought.
#ask#grima studies#not sure if everyone knows all this already or if it's lesser known trivia but either way i hope you enjoyed looking at grima's body with m#for academic purposes of course
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Month 3 - Greenleaf
Strikestar pushes past a fern, feeling relief from the hot sun in the shade above her. She looks over her shoulder, spotting the dark pelt of Hyeridrizzle a few tail lengths behind.
“How are you doing back there?” Strikestar asks.
“I feel like I’m going to start melting.” Hyeridrizzle replies. She stops next to Strikestar and flops onto her haunches, head bowed. “I don’t know how you clan cats put up with this heat every year.”
“Hey, you're a clan cat now too. You’ll get used to it eventually.” Strikestar says, whiskers twitching in amusement.
“I’m gonna die of heatstroke before then.”
“Not if Shinepelt has anything to say about it. He’ll just travel to Starclan and drag you back by force if he has to.” Strikestar nudges Hyeridrizzle. “Now come on. We’re almost to the edge of the border.”
Hyeridrizzle groans and pushes herself up, following close behind her leader. She scans the undergrowth around them as they walk, listening intently to the birds singing in the trees. Before she joined the clan, Hyeridrizzle used to sit on the railing of her housefolks cabin, staring out into the trees and imagining what it would be like to live in them. The younger her would have never envisioned that she would finally be able to.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Huh?” Hyeridrizzle focuses back on the she-cat in front of her.
“You looked like you were thinking of something.”
“Just remembering when I would dream of living in the forest when I was younger. Nothing important.” Hyeridrizzle replies.
“Seems important to me. It takes guts to leave everything you’ve ever known behind. Trust me, I know.” Strikestar meows.
“I guess you would. I was just tired of the same old routine everyday. Wanted something new, you know?”
Strikestar nods, falling quiet as they finally come up to the edge of their border. She looks out at the twoleg place in the distance.
“So…why did you decide to leave your clan to make a new one?” Hyeridrizzle asks.
“Same reason as you I suppose. It was the same routine and I felt stuck. I figured making Swampclan would help me in some way.”
“And did it?” “Yea, it did. I wouldn’t change my decision even if I was given the chance.” Strikestar replies. She gets to work marking the border, Hyeridrizzle close behind. The sounds of the forest surround them. Chirping from birds and squirrels, rustling in the flowers, branches shuffling above. Strikestar wouldn’t trade the sounds of the forest for anything.
The sun was starting to make its way down when the two warriors had finally finished and were making their way back to camp. The heat of midday was waning into a cool breeze, giving some relief. Strikestar trots around a high root from one of the many mangroves in the swamp, ducking under another.
“Uh, Strikestar? Where did the birds go?” Hyeridrizzle asks.
“What do you mean?” Strikestar pauses and turns. She looks up, spotting a few birds in the trees. “The birds are still there.”
“They stopped singing. Everything stopped.” Hyeridrizzle looks around, hackles rising. “Something’s wrong.”
Strikestar flicks her ears around, trying her best to pick up any of the sounds she was listening to earlier. She picks up on a rhythmic thumping heading towards them, gradually getting louder. A low grunting joins in with the thump and dread fills Strikestar. She breaks into a run towards Hyeridrizzle, shoving her to the ground just as a large dog appears behind her. Before Strikestar could react further, jaws close around her back leg and pull her into the air. She lets out a pained yowl, lashing out with outstretched claws. Skin rips and blood splatters across her legs and underbelly.
“Strikestar!” Hyeridrizzle cries. She launches herself at the dog, jaws clamping onto loose skin around its neck.
The dog lets go of Strikestar in favor of snapping at Hyeridrizzle, just missing by a hair as the she-cat pulls away. It lets out a low growl, lips curling back.
Hyeridrizzle rakes her claws across its nose, making it jerk back. She follows it, striking out each time it tries to get closer. Finally, with one last cut, it whimpers and turns away, retreating back into the forest. Hyeridrizzle watches it go, eyes narrowed to slits and claws digging into the ground. A groan draws her attention away.
“Strikestar.” Hyeridrizzle spins around and bounds to the limp body of her leader. “Strikestar, are you ok?”
“I think…I think my leg is broken.” Strikestar replies, wincing.
“Did you lose a life?”
“No, no. Just my leg. Help me up.” Strikestar shimmies her front paws under her and pushes up.
“Woah, hey! Do you think that’s a good idea?” Hyeridrizzle asks, but goes to support Strikestar.
“Gotta get back to camp somehow.”
Hyeridrizzle frowns but doesn’t argue further. She lets Strikestar lean against her and slowly makes her way back to camp.
******
Shinepelt pushes another herb bundle back into its place in storage, humming softly to himself. He turns his attention to the pile of poppy seeds, separating them into smaller piles and putting them next to their specific herb bundles. Brushing off his paws, he stands and makes his way to the entrance of the medicine den.
“Shinepelt, thank Starclan.” Dawnfrost bounds up to the medicine cat just as he appears.
“Dawnfrost, what’s wrong?”
“Strikestar’s hurt. Hyeridrizzle and Paletail are helping her into the camp.” Dawnfrost replies.
“Hurt? How did she get hurt?” Shinepelt asks, perking up. He pads to the entrance of the camp.
“Hyeridrizzle didn’t say how. She just told me to tell you.” Dawnfrost says, following after.
Shinepelt hums in acknowledgment. The bushes ahead rustle and Paletail comes out first, followed by Strikestar and Hyeridrizzle. The medicine cat’s eyes trail along Strikestar’s body, landing on her back leg. Her oddly twisted back leg. The blood drains from Shinepelt’s face.
“What in Starclan’s name happened?” Shinepelt exclaims, rushing forward to take Strikestar from Hyeridrizzle.
“Dog attack. Strikestar saved me.” Hyeridrizzle replies. “It grabbed her leg. She thinks it’s broken.”
“She thought right.” Shinepelt helps Strikestar to his den, letting her lay down in one of the moss nests. He turns his attention to her leg, running a paw along the limb until he gets to the break.
“So, good and bad news.”
“Good news first.”
“Nope, bad news first.”
“You’re mean.”
“Shush. The leg is definitely broken, however, it’s not as bad as it looks. The bone isn’t sticking through the skin and it feels like it’ll set well enough.” Shinepelt turns away to grab a couple sticks and some cobwebs. He sets the sticks on either side of her leg.
“Brace yourself.” Shinepelt meows. He waits a moment before straightening out the leg and pinning it to the ground with his own back leg.
Strikestar lets out a sharp hiss, digging her claws into the ground. She lays her head on the ground.
Shinepelt thickly wraps the cobwebs around the sticks and her leg, making sure the splint wouldn’t come apart or loosen.
“You have to be more careful, you know that.” Shinepelt says.
“I couldn’t just let the dog get Hyeridrizzle. I have nine lives for a reason.” Strikestar forces out through clenched teeth.
“You could lose those nine lives faster than you think. One wrong move and you're helpless to stop it. Didn’t your mother ever tell you about the Tiger that lost his lives in one swipe?”
“That’s just a story.” Strikestar scoffs.
“Every story comes from some form of truth.” Shinepelt looks at Strikestar, frowning at the conflicted look on her face. He sighs.
“Listen, I’m not trying to tell you what to do or that you shouldn’t do your best to protect everyone. I’m just telling you to be careful.” Shinepelt settles down next to his leader and starts to groom her blood speckled fur.
“We still need you as our leader. It’s too soon for you to leave us.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Strikestar says, closing her eyes and relaxing.
“No need to apologize. Now try to get some sleep. You’ll need all the rest you can to heal up quickly.”
Strikestar hums, curling her tail around her body.
Shinepelt continues his ministrations, feeling the change in breathing underneath him as Strikestar slips into unconsciousness.
“Shinepelt?”
The tom looks up, spotting Hyeridrizzle standing in the entrance to his den.
“Will she be ok?”
“Just fine. She’ll just have to rest and heal up.”
“Oh, that’s good.” Hyeridrizzle lingers in the entrance, like she wants to say more.
Shinepelt smiles softly, giving the warrior a reassuring look as he guesses what might be bothering her. “It’s not your fault. Strikestar would have done this for any cat.”
“How did you?” Hyeridrizzle tilts her head.
“Medicine cat intuition. Now go rest.”
“Thank you, Shinepelt.”
“No problem.” Shinepelt turns back to Strikestar and goes back to cleaning her fur.
******
Authors Note
Sorry this one is on the shorter side and has no illustrations, I've been busy with work. There also wasn't much that happened this moon. Hopefully I'll be able to do more for the next chapter!
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Hooked (Jerome X Reader)
Ok, so this is a thing. I was kinda surprised nobody had used this scene yet, because the Gotham fandom seem to collectively agree that Jerome is BIG KINKY and yet the one scene where he canonically has people cuffed up and hung from the ceiling... nobody has touched??? Y'all have been sleeping on that scene! It's fanfic gold! Anyway, enjoy the hedonism. Much love xxx
Warning: SMUT, 18+, GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, BDSM, bondage, cuffs, dom/sub, vaginal fingering, oral sex, biting, spanking, slapping, pussy slapping, light choking, spitting, belt whipping, praise/degradation, marking, mention of scratching, Jerome is big meanie pants mean man
The new mayor of Gotham is having a meeting with his council members, but things take a turn when the Legion of Horribles show up to kidnap them and reader. When the victims are being unloaded from the truck, Jerome Valeska notices reader, because she isn't exactly on the guest list.
Tag list of lovelies: @gabile18 @valeskaduh @fangirl--writes @persephoneblck
Masterlist
I had been working as a housekeeper for the new mayor. It was a good job, but I wasn't appreciated. I was just there to clean and serve when needed. I don't think he even knew my name. I was just hired help to him. To all of them.
He was hosting a dinner for his council that day. I had been placed in the corner of the room with a bottle of expensive wine where I was to wait until wanted. He gestured for me to come forwards and fill their glasses while they started talking about their displeasure with the rising foul play in the city, like it was anything new for Gotham. The chairwoman wanted to know what he was going to do about it. Very little in my opinion. He was just coasting. In too deep over his head. He had been appointed far too fast and everyone knew it. He wasn't going to last.
He made an attempt to save face and talk about how he too was disturbed by the recent goings on and was doing everything he could. Trash, utter trash. As he rose from his seat, the lights fizzled out. I stopped pouring. Had this been any other city I would have assumed it was a simple power outage, but nothing was that simple in Gotham. The security guard closed us in and went to see what was happening. The air turned icy. No, this was not good. Gunshots and screams came from the hallway and everyone rose from the table terrified. We quickly started walking towards a door hoping to make an escape, but there was something about the windows. They were freezing over.
The doors burst open and I dropped the wine. It smashed into pieces as a blueish man in some kind of robotic suit and a weird looking, but huge gun stepped into the room. Was that Victor Fries? Then through the second set of doors another man in a top hat who I recognised as Jervis Tetch burst in with some other strange looking friends.
Before I could comprehend the situation, we were all being cuffed and taken outside. Our kidnappers pushed and pulled us towards a huge truck, all the while the mayor tried to buy his way free. He was showing just how little he really knew about the underbelly of Gotham. I knew just by looking at them that they were probably Arkham escapees and couldn't be bought like a sane man could. They had their own plans and you can't bargain with crazies.
We got to the truck and they opened the back door. My blood ran cold when I saw that standing there waiting for us was Jerome Valeska. Of all the criminals Gotham had seen he had been the only one that had scared me, truly and thoroughly. He didn't have any kind of reason for what he did. He just enjoyed death and chaos. And after his last escapade he looked like madness personified, his scars circling his face and eyes and giving him a permanent evil smile. Dread consumed me as I realized that he was no doubt the leader of this operation and if that was true, we were already dead.
I felt myself jolted forwards. The mayor had pushed me in front of the rest of the council to get whatever was coming first. If I wasn't cuffed, I would have turned around and broke his nose. I was lifted into the truck, my hands were pulled above my head and fixed to two hooks. I had to stand on my toes to keep standing which made it awkward and difficult as they pushed me to the back of the truck.
Was that Penguin? What was he doing here? He didn't belong here. I had gone to Penguin looking for a job in his club when I was 16. He was impressed with my audition, but when he asked my age, he rejected me.
"This establishment is not a playground for children. It's a nightclub." He had told me. At the time I had been steaming mad, but in hindsight he was probably right. Even if he was rude. So, after that, I found it hard to understand why he was here and working with Valeska. Maybe he had been kidnapped too?
The rest of the council were loaded on and hooked. The mayor was still trying to offer them money and pardons. When he saw it wasn't working, he resorted to empty, unintimidating threats. Jerome was completely unfazed and even a little disappointed in the lack of smiles.
"Nobody knows how to have fun anymore, right?" He said putting his arm around Penguin. So, he was a part of this.
Jerome pointed to a scary looking figure dressed like a scarecrow. Johnathan Crane? Crane released some kind of purple gas in the face of a member of a council. She started laughing and convulsing violently.
"What have you got to lose? Except your sanity?" Jerome joined in the crazy laughter. So, this was his plan. He'd figured out a way to forcefully drive everyone insane. With a gas.
I silently prayed to God in my mind for any kind of help.
After sufficiently terrifying us half to death, they left us in the back of truck. None of us could say anything and after a few minutes the truck started moving.
"Is she ok?" I asked looking towards the victim of the insanity gas.
"Who cares?! We have to figure out what they want and get out of here." Replied the mayor.
"Maybe they want publicity for whatever that gas is. Offer them some TV time." Guessed the chairwoman.
"Don't you get it?! This isn't a situation you can buy your way out of!" I snapped, frustrated with their idiocy.
"These aren't normal criminals. They don't want your money. They want chaos and madness." They stood there silently stunned. They had never heard me speak with such confidence, but in that moment, they knew I was right.
After what felt like hours the truck finally stopped.
"What's going on?" The mayor whispered.
Everything was quiet. We listened for any noise or sign of life. All we could hear was our own breath.
Then suddenly the doors flung open once again and in hopped Valeska, Tetch and Crane.
"We're here!" Jerome grinned.
The other two started to pull the council one by one off the hooks and walk them out of the truck, closely watched by Jerome. Until they got to me.
"Wait..." He stuck an arm out to stop Tetch from unhooking me.
"Who's she? She wasn't on the party list." He took a few steps closer to me.
"This poor young girl is an unlucky maid. Wrong place, wrong time. Very bad day." Jervis explained looking at me.
"Would you like me to... dispose of her?" Asked Crane, stalking close to me and lifting needle covered fingers to my throat.
"Not so fast, Mr Potato Head." Jerome said pulling him away from me.
He came so close that we were only inches apart. He looked down at me as if he was thinking for a few seconds then smirked and turned around to the others.
"Guys, go and see that our guests are comfortable, will ya? Get everything ready." He ushered them out of the truck. Fear travelled up and down my body. This had all been a bad situation, but being alone with Valeska scared the hell out of me.
"You're lucky I have a soft spot for pretty little girls." He closed the truck doors and turned to look at me.
"Freddy Krueger there... not so much." He relaxed, leaning back against the doors with his hands in his pockets. "You got a name?"
I stayed silent, more out of fear than defiance. He sucked his teeth and stood up straight.
"I get it. You're scared. Who wouldn't be, right?" He started slowly walking closer. "But things will go a lot smoother if you just play nice."
I still couldn't find any words.
"Aw, come on, doll! I'm getting awful lonely over here." He brought his hands up out of his pockets and leaned against a wall of the truck.
He was quiet for a few seconds and I noticed that his eyes were making their way up my legs. Being held up by my wrists on my tip toes had pulled my uniform skirt up and almost all of my thighs were exposed. I blurted out my name in an attempt to distract him from my bare legs. He smiled.
"What a pretty name. Now, was that so hard?" He pushed himself off the wall and came a little closer.
"So, you're the mayor's dust bunny, huh? I gotta say, doll, I can see why he keeps you around." He chuckled, eyeing me.
My whole body flushed and my face turned hot and red.
“But, uh, the thing about mayors in this town, they don’t last very long.”
"Please let me go." I whimpered.
"Oh, but we're having such a good time! Plus, if I did that, you'd scamper off to the GCPD and I can't have good ol' Gordon crashing the party early."
I scoffed at his suggestion. Not likely. I had a distinct distaste for the GCPD. They hadn't helped me when I needed them. I would never need them again.
"What's the matter? He book ya before or something?" Jerome smiled with intrigue.
"My parents... they... did things to us. When I ended up in the hospital one too many times..." Tears stung my eyes as I remembered. "They left me there and disappeared with my little brother. No one ever managed to track them down."
I didn’t fully understand why I was opening up to Jerome, but for a second, I saw a spark of humanity in his eyes. Like he understood my pain. I'd heard his first kill had been his mother, so maybe he did?
"I'd give anything to see him again." I sniffed and a tear rolled down my cheek.
"Yeah, I had shitty parents too." He sighed. "I killed them both."
I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw my parents again. What I would say, what I would ask. I could never think of the right words. But the thought of killing them, well that made me smile.
"What was it like?" I asked.
Jerome grinned from ear to ear and stepped closer so that we were toe to toe.
“Have you ever stood at the edge of a really tall building? You know that little voice in the back of your head that says ‘Jump! You can fly!’ even though every other part of you is screaming ‘No you can’t! You’re gonna kill us!’”
I nodded shakily.
“It’s like finally giving in to that voice. Like jumping off Gotham Bridge and finding out you can fly. And realising you never have to walk again.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and my heart felt like it was going a million beats per minute. His eyes were locked on mine and it felt like he was looking straight into my soul.
“You wanna fly, doll?” He brought his hand up to cup my jaw and ran his thumb along my bottom lip.
It wasn’t humanity I saw in Jerome Valeskas eyes. It was freedom. A freedom that I had wanted for as long as I could remember. And I could have it right now. He was offering it to me. The only thing standing in my way was myself.
“Yes.” I breathed. “Yes, I do.”
The next thing I knew, his lips were crashing into mine and he had hooked his hands under my thighs and was holding them around his waist. His kiss was desperate and hungry, like he had been starved for days and his grip on the bare flesh of my thighs was rough enough to leave bruises. I locked my ankles together behind him to steady myself from swaying underneath the cuffs. When I did, he drove his crotch forwards, grinding into my centre, a quiet moan escaping me as I felt him.
He slowly trailed a hand from my thigh, up my back and to the nape of my neck, before balling my hair in his fist. I gasped as I felt the sudden, sharp tug of him pulling my head back.
His eyes wandered down to settle on my exposed throat, before yanking my head to the side and nestling in the crook of my neck. He must’ve left a hundred open mouth kisses, but as he started to suck, I felt his teeth sink into my skin. I pulled back with a hiss at the sting, but he wouldn’t let go. He just kept on leaving harsh, red bitemarks and pulling my hair, all the time grinding harder into me.
He licked over the bruises he’d left and gently kissed them, before trailing his tongue up my neck to nip at my ear. He smiled darkly and pulled back away from me, dropping my legs back to the floor. He stalked around me, eyeing me up and down like a predator. I felt him behind me, his hands softly holding onto my waist, pulling me close to his chest.
“You know what’s great about this?” He cooed. “You’re already pre-cuffed.”
I flushed and my core swelled hot, his breath so close to me made my skin tingle all over. He pulled at the top of my skirt and dragged it down my hips, letting it fall down around my feet. He caressed my thighs and then stepped back, tugging at my underwear, playfully letting the elastic snap back to me.
“Y’know...” He said, before the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. “Marquis de Sade said ‘sex without pain is like food without taste’...”
My eyes widened at his words and my heartbeat quickened.
“So, let’s make this... delicious.”
A million thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could process any, I felt the sharp snap of leather against my ass. I jolted forwards and let out a high pitch yelp.
Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell he was smirking. I could hear it in his voice. I bit my lip in an attempt to brace myself and he landed the belt across me again.
“Please, Jerome...” I whimpered at the sting, closing my eyes.
He brought it down again, making me arch my back in a gasp. A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks and I realised there was little point in resisting the torment. So, I gritted my teeth and prepared for another lick of the belt.
He whipped me once more, harder this time and a small scream escaped me.
“Please!” I begged.
I heard him chuckle with dark delight. The bastard was enjoying this. Of course he was. What else had I expected from someone like him? I tightened all my muscles for the next sting...
But it didn’t come. Instead, I felt him pulling my underwear down. Relief washed over me when I heard the belt drop to the floor and I realised Jerome was finished and was now crouched, ready to inspect his work. He ran his fingers over my burning flesh, taking in the bright red lashes he had left on me.
“What a pretty picture?” He said, landing a spank. “I wish you could see too doll, but having you cuffed is half the fun.”
His voice was dripping with venom and arousal and I could practically feel his grin in the air. He traced the marks with his fingers a little longer, before grabbing my flesh in fistfuls and sinking his teeth in. I gasped loudly at the hard bite. I wasn’t sure how many more of Jerome's surprises I could take. He laughed and ran his tongue over the new bruise.
“Yep. Definitely a pretty picture.” He smiled, giving me another spank. “I like those little noises you make, doll. Why don’t you make some more for me?”
He snaked his hand up my inner thigh and began stroking along my slit, relighting the fire in my stomach. I moaned, biting hard on my lip and tried to bring my thighs together, wanting friction.
“Naughty.” He said, landing a swift slap on my entrance causing me to let out a little yelp. “I need you to keep those legs open for me.”
It wasn’t as bad as the belt. In fact, it felt quite good. The heat inside me swelled as Jerome returned to running his fingers back and forth in my slickness. I hummed softly in my throat, fighting the urge to close my thighs again, my knees starting to shudder underneath me.
“Look how wet you are and I’m barely touching you.” Jerome chuckled darkly. “I wonder what happens if I do this?”
Jerome plunged two fingers deep inside me and slowly started pumping them. I let the warmth roll through me, moaning blissfully. He gently started to pick up speed, making it nearly impossible for me to keep my thighs apart. The faster he got, the deeper he dove, making me tighten around his talented fingers and struggle to keep steady on my toes.
My legs were shaking and despite my best efforts I just had to squeeze them together. As soon as I did, Jerome removed his fingers from me, leaving me feeling empty and spanked me hard.
“What did I say about that?” He barked, laying down another spank.
His spanking felt different this time. It felt pleasurable and sent a thrill up my spine.
“Sorry.” I whimpered.
“Sorry for what?” He spanked me again. “For being a needy little whore? Hm?” Another spank.
“Yes!” I gasped. “I’m a needy little whore! I just...”
“What? You just what?”
Jerome landed another slap at my core. It made my muscles clench, but it also aroused me so much more in a way I’d never thought I’d experience.
“What? What do you want, whore?”
“Please...”
“Big words, princess. What...” Spank. “Do you...” Another spank. “Want?”
“I want... I want you...” I forced, breathlessly.
“You want me? What do you want me to do, princess?” Jerome teased, tracing a finger along my burning entrance, just barely touching me.
“Please... Make me feel good, Jerome... Make me cum.”
“Are you gonna be a good girl?”
“Yes...”
“Are you gonna do as I say?”
“Yes, I will.”
“Exactly as I say?”
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Just please...Jerome.”
I couldn’t take it any longer. I felt so pathetic and needy. I needed him to touch me.
“So desperate.” He giggled sadistically. I supposed he loved seeing me beg.
Then, finally, he spread me open and dove his tongue deep into my wanting warmth. I closed my eyes and bit down hard on my lip as he swirled his tongue around inside me. I wanted to grab his hair and feel it in my fingers, but all I could do was squeeze my fists together in empty frustration.
Jerome grabbed a hand full of my ass, gripping it tightly, digging his nails in and rose his other hand to my pelvis front, pulling me down further onto his tongue. I squealed, a delightful mixture of pleasure and also pain from the tugging on my aching forearms. He ran his front hand down to play with my swollen clit, circling his fingers around beautifully.
He grinded his face deeply into me, sliding his tongue up, down, around and around inside me. He pressed his fingers down harder on my clit, forcing a loud moan out of me. I felt the pressure inside me build, coiling and tightening like a burning spring. I squeezed my thighs around his head in a desperate attempt to pull him deeper, his tongue nestling inside finding all of my sweet spots and lighting them on fire.
I could feel myself ready, ready to burst. He was pulling an amazing orgasm out of me and I wanted nothing more than to just let it go. All it took was one more upward jolt of his head, pushing his tongue that last little bit deep enough to push me over. I screamed out in erotic pleasure, letting the feeling flood me like warm water. My back arched and my legs convulsed until I withered, letting myself dangle from my cuffs in a breathless defeat.
Jerome slid his tongue out of me and pulled his face back away.
“You sing so pretty, dollface. Like a little birdie.” He said, squeezing the flesh off my ass.
He gave me one more light bite and a spank, before he rose back up to stand, snaking his hands along my sides all the way. He let his hands wander up to cup my breasts, massaging them softly. He leaned in close and began leaving wet kisses in the crook of my neck. I shuddered, his touch sending a cool tingle down my spine. He let his hands squeeze my breasts slightly harder, then pulled away and crept back around in front of me.
He stood facing me, his eyes locked on mine. They seemed to burn holes right into my flesh, creating a sense of fear in me. I was scared of Jerome Valeska, I truly was. But everything he was doing to me right now... The way he touched me, kissed me. I wondered how he managed it. How he was able to both terrify and arouse me in equal amounts.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t register his hand rising until it was firmly wrapped around my throat. He leaned down to kiss me, dominating my mouth with his tongue, making me taste myself. Once again, I felt the familiar warmth build in my core as I sensed we were not quite done here. He finished the kiss with a little nip to my bottom lip.
“Are you scared of me, doll?” He purred.
I swallowed hard, unsure if truth was wise here. Then I felt him increase the pressure around my throat, not wanting to wait for an answer.
“Yes.” I breathed.
“Good.” He said through an evil smirk.
He crashed his lips to mine once again, his free hand picking up my thigh to wrap around him. I locked both my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him close against me. I felt his erection hard, under his clothes, grinding into me and I wanted it. Badly. He pulled away from the kiss, leaving his taste on my tongue and raised his hand from my throat to grab hold of my face. He took his other hand away from my thigh and pulled at his tie. I didn’t drop my legs this time, instead I gripped tighter as he slid his tie from around his neck and scrunched it in his fist.
“Open your mouth.” He ordered.
I did as he said and he smiled, before spitting into my open lips and gagging me with his tie. I’d never had anyone do that before and it shocked me a little, but then again, I’d never had anyone like Jerome Valeska before.
He backed up slightly, just enough for him to reach down and unzip his trousers and pull down his underwear, freeing his erection. I couldn’t help but look down at it. It was bigger than any I’d taken before and I wasn’t sure how prepared I was. He started to slowly stroke himself, lifting up my chin to look at me.
He gently stroked a single finger across my jaw and then, suddenly, landed a harsh slap across my cheek. I yelped at the slap, causing a dangerous smile to form on Jeromes mouth. I should’ve been repulsed by him. He killed people and was aroused by my pain and fear, so why was I so attracted to him?
He angled himself underneath me so he was lined up and ready. He wrapped his hand back around my throat and then pushed forwards into me, causing us both to let out deep moans.
“You like that?”
I nodded and whimpered through the material of the tie. Jerome giggled darkly and with his free hand, gripped onto my waist.
“Brace yourself, princess.” He warned, through a poisonous smile.
He pulled back slowly, until he was almost completely out of me and then, like a bullet, ploughed himself right back in, jolting me backwards with force. He continued his thrusting rough and fast, making me whimper and bite down hard on the tie. I closed my legs tightly around him, pulling him closer and forcing him in deeper.
He let out a low, guttural groan and moved his hand upwards from my waist to slap me again, spitting at my face as he did so. I closed my eyes to endure the onslaught of him pounding inside me like a raging animal. I felt like a toy, dangling there for him to use as he liked, but still the searing pleasure of it all made me moan lustfully.
“Open those peepers, princess.” He commanded. “I want you to see exactly who’s in charge here.”
I opened my eyes and saw him grinning at me like a man possessed.
“You like this? You like me fucking you?” He growled, gripping my throat tighter.
All I could do was whimper and moan in response.
“I cuffed you and hung you up, hurt you, spat on you... even made you cry! And you still let me fuck you?” He laughed through shallow breaths. “You’re pathetic, you know that? A pathetic little whore.”
Jerome threw another slap at me and I felt myself tighten around his considerable length, taking him all deep inside me. He drove up into me like he was trying to break me open with his girth and I welcomed every inch of it.
“You’re so fucking tight.” He moaned.
I clenched my walls around him, the feeling of being filled by him sending flutters through me as he pushed in deeper and laughed.
“I don’t think your pussy ever wants to let me go, doll!” He grinned. “But I already know you like taking my cock like this, cause you’re such a good girl for me... I like that.”
I flushed at his words. I didn’t know why, but it made me feel good to please him and, in that moment, I would have done anything for him. I could feel my ecstasy creeping up on me, like magma rising inside a volcano. I cried out wantonly, the heat rising as he worked me, exploring every detail of my canal with his thick shaft.
He let go of my throat and moved both his hands to grab onto my ass and squeezed, steadying me so he could pound me harder and climb to release. His thrusts became erratic and sloppy and I could tell he was just as close as I was. I moaned loudly as he rammed into me harder and faster, burying himself deeper and making my arousal burn.
I could feel it coming, so close. I was about to boil over and all I needed was him. Just him. He continued thrusting like a raging animal, digging his nails into my flesh and scraping them along my ass, stinging sweetly. I whimpered at the sensation and tightened my legs.
“Cum for me, doll.” He panted. “I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
He plunged into me, pushing the magma higher and just so close to bursting. It was coming. I could feel it.
He pounded again. So close. Again and again, so hard inside me. Just a little more...
I screamed out, closing my eyes and letting everything go. The feeling of my orgasm washed over me like a tidal wave of pure elation. My whole body shook from the force of it and I trembled like a leaf. Jerome continued to thrust into me until he too reached his climax. He growled like a beast and I felt him throb, releasing his hot load of sticky lust deep inside me.
We both relaxed, catching our breath and he stared down into my eyes. He unlatched his hands from the flesh of my ass and brought one round to gently stroke my cheek with his fingertips. It was quiet, but only for a minute.
He threw his head back and laughed like the madman he was, before pulling out of me and stepping back. My legs dropped to the floor and he began to put himself away and zip his trousers back up.
“Well, that was fantastic, dollface. Thanks for playing nice with me.” He said, throwing me a wink.
There was a loud metallic knock at the truck doors and I guessed whoever it was, was trying to get Jeromes attention.
“It’s been fun princess, really. But time waits for no man and I’ve got a party to attend” He said, smiling at me. “Well, more like crash.”
When he turned to leave, I tried to speak, but all that came out was intelligible muttering. He wasn’t going to leave me here, dangling, half naked and gagged like this? Was he? He began walking to the truck doors and I tried to call out.
“Oh! Wait, almost forgot.”
I felt a flood of relief when he began walking back to me.
“I’m gonna need this back.” He said and pulled the tie out of my mouth.
I was glad to finally be rid of it, but my joy was short lived, because he was starting to leave again.
“Hey...” I croaked; my mouth dry.
“Yeah, I’ll have someone come get you later.” He said, too nonchalantly for my liking. “For now, you can just... well, why don’t you just hang out?”
He laughed at his joke and opened the doors.
“Hey! You can’t leave me here!” I tried to shout, but my throat was too dry.
And then... he was gone. He really did just leave me alone, half naked in the back of a truck. How long would it be before someone found me? An hour? Two? The rest of the day?
All alone with my thoughts now, I decided the only thing to do now was wait. Wait and try and go over what the hell just happened between me and Jerome Valeska.
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Prompt~ hoping you'll like it ♥️
Things between the Nie brothers are not always nice and happy, they fight, just like any other pair of brothers, and sometimes things are said, sometimes these things are heavy and painful. Sometimes they're said in the wrong moment (maybe at the eve of a battle? Sunshot campaign?) and huaisang doesn't know what to do with the broken look his brother gives him before leaving the unclean realm. Because what if he doesn't return? What if the last thing he said to him was how much he hated the man he became?
Labyrinth - ao3
“But I didn’t mean to wish him away!” Nie Huaisang cried out.
“That’s really too bad,” the goblin king said, looking pleasant and humble and charming the way he always did, even in his cape of glittering gold and high-browed hat. “I wish there was something I could do for you, but the rules are the rules. You wished him away, and I took him.”
“Aren’t you supposed to only take babies?” Nie Huaisang demanded.
“Your brother’s enough of a crybaby to count, it’s close enough.”
“It is not!” Nie Huaisang wrung his hands. “You don’t understand, the last thing I said to him was that I hated him! Meng Yao, please!”
“It’s Jin Guangyao,” the goblin king corrected. His smile looked a bit strained. “Listen, do you think I’m happy about this? He’s my sworn brother! I’m only doing what I have to –”
“Oh, save it for Lan Xichen,” Nie Huaisang growled. “Show me the labyrinth already.”
“You’re going to face the labyrinth,” the goblin king said. His voice was very polite, and yet still expressed significant doubt. “You.”
“Yeah, me!”
“You remember that it goes ‘through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered’, right? Not ‘through a nice teacher and a forgiving grading system’?”
“Yeah, well, your father is a fragging aardvark. Let me at the labyrinth already!”
-
“You know what,” Nie Huaisang said thoughtfully. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
The life-sized animated puppet blinked at him. “You – don’t want my help?”
“Nope. I’m good.”
“You haven’t even gotten into the labyrinth yet!”
“It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t have a chance to get in,” Nie Huaisang said, patting around his sleeve and pulling out a fan. “So I’m just going to walk over and beat at the wall till something happens.”
The puppet followed him, staring blankly. Quite a change from his original apologetic ‘I’m sorry, I’m busy with my own things, I really can’t help you, also it’s too dangerous and you shouldn’t go’ response.
“You were blackmailing me to help you just a moment ago,” the puppet said after a little. “Don’t you need a guide?”
“Listen, I’m bad at memorizing things and I’m a little useless, but I’m not actually dumb,” Nie Huaisang said, fanning himself. “Jin Guangyao is a demon of the mind above all else, and the labyrinth is supposed to be ‘fair’ – which means, more than likely, that the labyrinth is a reflection of the subconscious, specially tailored to each person’s strengths and weaknesses. And that means that you, who sound exactly like Lan Xichen, are almost certainly a set-up sent by Jin Guangyao to ‘reluctantly’ aid me and then betray me.”
“Uh,” Lan Xichen-the-puppet said. “My name’s Hoggle, actually.”
“Whatever makes you feel better, er-ge…A-ha!” Nie Huaisang beamed at the gates that automatically opened. “Perfect!”
-
“Oh, don’t go that way,” the worm said. “Never go that way. And are you sure you don’t want to come in for a cup of tea?”
“No time,” Nie Huaisang said. “Thanks a lot – wait.”
The worm blinked at him.
“You’re a pretty attractive worm, in a slimy sort of way,” Nie Huaisang said, frowning at him.
The worm blinked again. “Why, thanks!”
“No, that’s not what I meant. Is your name Su She, by chance?”
“Definitely not!”
“Mm. Oddly vehement of you. Never mind. Just, quick, could you tell me exactly why do I not want to go that way?”
-
“I don’t suppose straight ahead is an option?”
The hands-faces stared at him.
“I’m just saying, I feel like most of my problems so far have come from the fact that I decided to accept the whole concept of turns. It seems like a mistake.”
“…it’s a labyrinth,” another set of the hands said. “You have to make turns!”
Nie Huaisang shook his head mournfully. “I should’ve brought Baxia or something and just – ZIP. Gone straight through. You know what I mean?”
“I’m dropping you in the oubliette regardless of your decision,” the first set of the hands said. It sounded a bit like Sect Leader Yao. “Just so you know.”
“My life is so hard,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “So hard! Do you know what it’s like to be overlooked by everyone? Do you know how hard I have to work at being this useless?”
“Drop him,” the set of hands that sounded like Sect Leader Ouyang said, and the set of hands that sounded like Sect Leader Yao said, “Yes. Now!”
Down Nie Huaisang went.
-
“I can take you back to the beginning of the labyrinth,” Lan Xichen offered.
“What, and waste all that time? I have a time limit, er-ge!”
“It’s better than being stuck in an oubliette. That’s where they put people to forget about them, you know.”
Nie Huaisang’s eyes filled with tears. “You want to forget me, er-ge? You think I’m useless, don’t you? A good-for-nothing, who’ll never amount to anything –”
“Please don’t cry.”
“ER-GE! WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME!”
“Please stop crying!”
-
“So what’s the point of you?” Nie Huaisang asked the Wise Man with the Talking Hat.
“Not everyone exists to contribute to your storyline,” the Talking Hat snapped at him. “Some of us’ve got our own problems. Now hand over the candy!”
“Don’t be mean,” the Wise Man said. He had a white cloth over his eyes, and was smiling like he found the hat funny.
“Awww, but daozhang…!”
“Different plotline entirely, I guess,” Nie Huaisang decided. “Probably just here as a foil. Shall we keep going, er-ge?”
“I can’t believe you scammed me to get out of the oubliette,” Lan Xichen mumbled. “I can’t believe…”
-
“Oh, leave him alone, he’s just sensitive!” Nie Huaisang snapped.
“Am not!” the upside-down creature snarled, curled up on itself and trying to hide from all those that had been hitting him. Its fur was a vivid sort of purple. “Go away!”
“Don’t you have some sort of special power to help you here,” Nie Huaisang asked him as he tried to get him down before the goblins came back with weapons. “Rocks, maybe?”
“…lightning?”
“Well then get to it, will you?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “Wait. Lightning, constantly being tormented, terrible at communication, and purple? You’re Jiang Cheng, aren’t you?”
“…maybe.”
“Well then get down faster! I need to copy someone’s notes here!”
-
“Leave me aloooooooone!” Nie Huaisang howled, running away from the measuring snake.
-
“Wow,” Lan Xichen said, holding his cheek. “You kissed me.”
“You saved me from the snakes,” Nie Huaisang said. “Can we focus on how we’re in this awful stinking bog?”
“It’s not that bad!” a voice piped up. “I don’t smell anything!”
Nie Huaisang turned to stare, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you don’t,” he said. “I bet the total absence of a sense of smell helps when you eat spicy food, Wei-xiong.”
“There’s nothing wrong with spicy food!”
“You’re short,” Nie Huaisang informed the small goblin-like creature with the big grin and the red ribbon in its hair. It looked vaguely fox-like, or possibly like certain large breeds of rabbit.
“Why you..!” Wei Wuxian crossed his furry little paws over his chest. “Just for that, I’m not going to help you.”
“Uh-huh,” Nie Huaisang said. “Really. That’s awful…oh no! A dog!”
Wei Wuxian jumped high into the air. “A dog?! Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! Save me!”
Much to Nie Huaisang’s surprise, a furry dog immediately darted out of nowhere – only Wei Wuxian didn’t seem afraid of it, but rather hid behind it, teeth chattering.
Truly, Nie Huaisang reflected, the eyes of love are blind.
“I think the ‘dog’ is gone now,” he said. “Your brave and noble Lan Wangji must’ve scared him away.”
Wei Wuxian’s head popped out from behind dog-Wangji. “Well, Lan Zhan is really cool…hey. Are you trying to manipulate me?”
“Is it working?”
“No!”
“So you won’t help me?”
“No!”
“Not even if it means you get to figure out a really tricky puzzle?”
“No – wait. A puzzle?”
“I can’t believe this is going to work,” Lan Xichen muttered from behind Nie Huaisang. “I mean, I can. But also…Wangji…I love you, but you could do so much better than this.”
-
“Ugh,” Nie Huaisang said. “I’m so thirsty.”
“Have some Emperor’s Smile,” Lan Xichen said, offering a jar.
“Amazing,” Nie Huaisang said, accepting it and taking a swing. “I had my doubts, you know, but you’re actually good for something after all, er-ge –”
-
The golden bird was Nie Huaisang’s favorite.
He’d worked so hard to bring it back to his aviary – it couldn’t be forced, he knew; it would play along at first but in the end it would turn on you and bite you. It had to be coaxed with gentleness and kindness, approached indirectly so as not to spook it, convince it that you really did mean well – that you were harmless, that it had no reason to fear you. It was arrogant, too, proud of its shining feathers and ashamed of the brown plumage of its chick days, which still remained visible on its tender underbelly. Ironically, that was Nie Huaisang’s favorite part of it, the soft and gentle part; it might not be as pretty as the gold, but it felt more genuine.
Nie Huaisang smiled as he brushed the beautiful feathers, and the golden bird allowed him. He felt cherished, treasured. So what if he had to hide all the sharp parts of himself to get this close?
It was fine. He didn’t like to be sharp.
He wanted to be soft. Soft and gentle, careless and free, relaxed and without effort, good for nothing –
Wait.
No!
-
“It’s all junk,” Nie Huaisang hissed at the pile of burning fans, tears in his eyes. “I want my da-ge!”
-
“You’re all right!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, helping pulled Nie Huaisang up.
“Huaisang-xiong,” Jiang Cheng said, looking relieved. “You’re back.”
“We have to go to the temple beyond the Goblin City,” Nie Huaisang said, teeth gritted together. “We have to. I won’t let that bastard…we’re going to go there and throw all his damned tricks right in his face!”
“Just us?” Wei Wuxian asked. “I mean, I’m awesome, Lan Zhan is fantastic, and of course Jiang Cheng is great, too, but…uh…there’s a lot of goblins in the city.”
“We’ll sneak in,” Nie Huaisang said. “He thinks he’s sidelined me entirely – he thinks I’m useless. He won’t be expecting me to get this far.”
“I can get help,” Jiang Cheng said. “I have friends.”
“…not to be rude, Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang said. “But – really?”
-
“You know what,” Nie Huaisang said, eyeing the pile of rocks following Jiang Cheng around, each one painted with a name. One of the names was yellow. Two were in white, with forehead ribbons. “This is fine. I feel like it says something really rude about my empathy for and interest in our junior generation, or lack thereof, but you know what? I don’t care. It’s fine.”
-
“You saved me,” Nie Huaisang said blankly, looking at Lan Xichen, who shrugged, abashed. The remains of the mechanical temple guard were scattered all over. “Over – him?”
“Huaisang –”
“No,” Nie Huaisang said, holding up his hands. “Don’t. Don’t…I don’t want to hear you talk.”
Lan Xichen’s head dropped down and he looked at the ground. “You knew from the beginning what I was like,” he murmured. “I never tried to hide it –”
“I forgive you for being what you are,” Nie Huaisang told him, and Lan Xichen looked up at him, startled and pleased. “I forgive you for not having the backbone to stand up against Jin Guangyao for me – or for da-ge. For being willfully blind for so long, for needing someone else’s proof of his ill-intentions, for always picking him first, for never trusting me…I forgive you, even if you’d never forgive me for the same.”
He dashed away the angry tears in his eyes.
“I just wish this wasn’t a fucking metaphor.”
-
Nie Huaisang left the fighting to the people who knew what to do – Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng, even the rock-juniors – and went to the temple at the center of the city alone.
Some things, he knew, needed to be done alone, even if it was the type of alone when you were surrounded by other people. Even when those other people stood by his side and made him promise that if he needed them, he would only need to call. Some things…
“I want my da-ge back,” he said to the maze of stairs.
“Then go and find him,” Jin Guangyao replied, looking smug, and Nie Huaisang had to go up and down all those fucking stairs, because Jin Guangyao was nothing if not predictable with his trauma, looking all over, looking for –
Looking for pieces.
“It’s just a metaphor,” he whispered to himself, ignoring how tears were streaming down his face. “It’s just – I need to put him back together, it’s fine. I’m not too late – I’m not too late –”
-
Jin Guangyao held Nie Mingjue’s head in his hands, blinded and gagged and bound with talismans, pulled out of whatever oubliette he'd shoved it into to forget about what he'd done. “Beware, Huaisang,” he said, still smiling. Always smiling. “I’ve been generous up until now, but I can be cruel.”
Nie Huaisang laughed, scoffing. “Generous? What have you done for me that’s generous?”
“Everything! Everything you’ve wanted, I’ve done – I cared for you, I gave you attention, I got you out of work, doing your schoolwork for you and coming up with excuses to get you out of saber training. I gave you presents, fans and pretty clothing, and when that brute of a brother of yours tried to take them from you, I rescued you. And then I even managed your sect for you, answered all of your questions, any time you had – Huaisang, I’m exhausted trying to live up to your expectations of me. Isn’t that generous?”
Nie Huaisang bared his teeth. “Half of those are burdens that only fell on me because of you. Why should it matter to me that cleaning up your own mess and satisfying your own guilt is hard? Why should I pay such a price when all I wanted was to be your friend? When all da-ge wanted was to be your friend? How dare you, Meng Yao!”
“Huaisang…” Jin Guangyao shook his head mournfully. “Huaisang, the last step here is to say the words to break the spell. But you were never good at memorization, were you?”
Nie Huaisang bit his lip until he drew blood.
“Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered,” he said. “I have fought my way here to the temple beyond the goblin city –”
“Huaisang, stop! Look at what you’re risking here. You know how everyone loves me – do you think anyone will forgive you for taking me down, for tricking them all? You’ll be all alone!”
I already am, Nie Huaisang thought.
“My will is as strong as yours,” he said. “And my kingdom is as great…”
His voice trailed off.
“I ask for so little,” Jin Guangyao said beseechingly, convincingly, looking just like he always did, like the man who'd been their friend. “Just let me fool you, and you can have anything you want. No responsibilities, no stress, a life of your own. You can even have Lan Xichen, if that’s what you want…”
What’s the last line, Nie Huaisang thought, hating himself for being such a poor student, for cramming things into his mind without any order, for never being able to retain a single drop of it no matter how hard he tried. What is it? Why can’t I ever remember?
“It’d be so easy,” Jin Guangyao crooned. “Much easier than this. Just fear me, love me, believe me, and I’ll be your slave.”
Sharp teeth in a false smile.
Nie Huaisang shook in terror. He couldn’t – his da-ge needed him – he couldn’t be afraid, couldn’t be a coward, couldn’t be good-for-nothing – couldn’t let Jin Guangyao win – couldn’t let him –
That was it.
Nie Huaisang raised his head until his eyes met his enemy’s.
Sensing something wrong, Jin Guangyao’s eternal smile dimmed, and he began to step forward, reaching out, but it was too late.
“You have no power over me,” Nie Huaisang declared, and the world within a world collapsed.
-
Nie Huaisang opened his eyes.
-
Nie Huaisang sat in his desk in the Unclean Realm, trying to amuse himself by trying to figure out what exactly he’d eaten the night before that had given him such bizarre dreams. It was not successful, on account of him being alone.
Alone, just as he had been every night, and every day as well, since the success of his scheme at the Guanyin Temple.
Just as the dream-Jin Guangyao had threatened.
It wasn’t that Nie Huaisang regretted what he had done – the dream was clear enough about that; he’d do it all again in a heartbeat if he had to. But in the dream he’d been working alongside his former friends, with Lan Xichen betraying but then returning to him, with Wei Wuxian dragging Lan Wangji around, with stone-faced Jiang Cheng and the rather interchangeable junior squad behind him…and in his dream, in the end, they’d let him go to take his revenge, telling him that if he needed them for any reason, he could just call.
Just call, and they’d come back to him. Instead of turning from him in disgust, they’d stand by his side…
“Stupid subconscious,” Nie Huaisang mumbled to himself. “What do you expect? That I'd write to them and say ‘for no real reason at all, I find that I rather need you’?”
Silence answered him.
“Well, I do,” he said with a sigh, putting his chin on his hands. “Does that make you happy? I do need you.”
“You do?” Wei Wuxian’s voice rang out, and Nie Huaisang jumped nearly out of his skin. “Well, why didn’t you say so?”
Nie Huaisang turned, staring: it was Wei Wuxian at the door, the human version of him, and of course there was Lan Wangji right before him, and Jiang Cheng, and the (still mostly interchangeable) juniors, and – and even Lan Xichen, who Nie Huaisang was sure had gone into seclusion with no intent to leave.
“What are you doing here?” Nie Huaisang squeaked. And why hadn’t any of his sect disciples warned him?
“We just bullied our way though the door before anyone could stop us,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully, answering the unspoken question first. “As for the rest – it turns out that I had the strangest dream the other night, really, truly bizarre, and obviously I had to tell Lan Zhan all about it, except it turned out he had a strange dream too.”
Nie Huaisang’s jaw dropped. “But –”
“I felt da-ge’s qi woven into the labyrinth,” Lan Xichen said quietly. “I thought it’d have long ago dissipated or been locked away, but – it was there, in every stone, in every turn. Every obstacle that didn’t really hurt you, every goblin that was more silly than scary…he was there. It was unmistakable.”
Nie Huaisang swallowed. The story of the labyrinth, baby-stealing wish-granting goblin king and all, had been one that Nie Mingjue had told him as a bedtime story, when he'd been a child in need of comfort; he hadn’t thought of it in years before last night. “But…why…?”
“Because Chifeng-zun has a demented sense of humor?” Jiang Cheng suggested, looking irritated.
“Jiujiu means that he hasn’t had that much fun in years, and also that you should throw a party,” Jin Ling said. “You are hosting all three of the sect leaders of all the other Great Sects. Also, why were we rocks?”
“Uh, no idea,” Nie Huaisang said. “Da-ge’s weird sense of humor, no doubt! Anyway, did you say party? I can do a party!”
He rushed out of the room, calling for his servants, calling for them to bring food and wine and tea, and as he did, he looked out of the window – a golden bird was flying away, looking hunted as if something was chasing it, and even as he watched, it crossed the borders of the Unclean Realm and suddenly dissolved into a fizzle of golden dust.
Nie Huaisang put his hand on the stone wall, and felt a familiar echo.
A very familiar echo.
“Oh,” he said, to his servants, feeling somehow simultaneously sheepish and filled with joy. “And while you’re at it, can you bring me my saber? I seem to have – misplaced it…”
#mdzs#nie huaisang#jin guangyao#lan xichen#jiang cheng#wei wuxian#lan wangji#su she#sect leader yao#sect leader ouyang#xiao xingchen#xue yang#my fic#my fics#labyrinth
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Sorry
I haven't updated in a while.
It's because Mario's Dad has finally made a return to the Kingdom.
I haven't been able to sleep at night because I have been helping him try to find a record.
You see. Back in the 80s, Mario had this record that he really liked. Unfortunately Luigi threw it into the fire while he was trying to read a book.
As a birthday gift, JumpMan (I'm going to be calling him that now because it feels is a little bit weird to call Mario's dad Mario's dad) was going to give him that record as a belated birthday gift.
Unfortunately. It turned up the one that he had already gotten was actually a bootleg that broke almost after one playing.
Because he didn't want anyone to ruin the surprise. He actually asked me to help him.
Here is what happend recently
At the canopy market at the docs
The docs are a place where a lot of things happen, Sea Shell Necklaces, Over priced caricatures, and a shady underbelly.
I know this because that is where we ended up finding the record.
After entering a 3 and an eighth record stores (one also was a thrift shop where everything smelled really awful.)
We are about to give up until we Heard a dolphin noise,
???: Dolphin noise
We followed it and found our selves underneath the docs.
The black market.
There were a few people there
A kid repeating "Hey fat boy, You wanna fight" to any passer by.
That Bob guy trying to sell his mix tapes.
There was a Goomba in a blue cap sitting on a bar chair who look like he had a pint too many.
He was eating ice cream flavors that wouldn't be on the shelves for a few years and yelling about the game Paper Mario.
To the right, we saw a dolphin in a leather coat. They were selling a large marked container of fruit drink powder to a Yoshi in a tank top and gold chain.
???: I see you two are looking for a record.
JumpMan: Uh. Yes. I guess we are.
Loan dolphin: well you've come to the right place. Call me Loan Dolphin, I've got "legal" merch.
And in your case, iv'e got the record your looking for.
Garth: What do you mean by "legal".
Loan Dolphin: Shut up kid. I've gotten stuff from Awesome-Mix drink powder that's been off the shelf for years, autographed photos from people both on Panko AND Earth, and even a couple pieces of ammo of the mob boss who was here in the 50s.
JumpMan: How about that record you mentioned, how much will that cost.
Loan Dolphin: How much you got.
We ended up paying him a large amount of coins.
I say we because I payed most of it.
JumpMan: Look, I'll pay you back.
Just as we were handed the record.
The Yoshi came back in and started yelling. Something about how his Awsome-Mix was not up to snuff and he needed a refund.
As we were slipping out, I'm pretty sure the Yoshi pulled out a Zapper and said he could stun him for a week if he didn't do something.
I don't know what that something was because we left as soon as things looked like they were getting bad.
This is where the story would end normally.
But I had one last thing to do.
After JumpMan delivered the record and caught up with his family.
I went to see him before he was going to take off.
Garth: I need you to take this back to Earth.
It was in the letter I wrote and a box of mementos from the mushroom kingdom.
It was for my parents.
Garth: This needs to get to Agridulce, to my family. I need to let them know I'm safe.
JumpMan: What, I can't take this. This stuff will probably get me arrested.
Garth: You said you would pay me back. And you will not get arrested, if you get caught your son can probably pull some strings.
JumpMan: ... Fine.
JumpMan: But if I get caught I'm blaming you.
He had reluctantly agreed.
I just pray that the letter find my parents well.
Garth hoping and signing off.
#mario#garththeaprentice#mario bros#super mario bros#marios apprentice#garth#super mario#super mario brothers#garth the apprentice#mario brothers#JumpMan#record#luigi#sml#loan dolphin#paper mario#letter#agridulce#smg4#smg4 bob
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The Straw
(Story Post)
After a long day of work, the last thing Sydryn wanted to see was their refrigerator items strewn across the kitchen counters and floor while their sibling took a nap at the kitchen table. There were also several grocery bags among the catastrophe, heaped and overflowing with countless fluffy pink pastries. “What in the world is going on here?” Sydryn demanded, loud and stern enough to startle Seranan awake. “Sissy! What, oh…” Seranan sat up and looked around. “Oh, yes. I was just doing some reorganising… But then I got tired and took a nap, I guess.” “Reorganising my refrigerator? Full of my food?” Sydryn snarled. “Why in the world would you do this? Not to mention, you left the refrigerator door wide open!” “D'uh. How else would I access it during lengthy grocery reorganisation?” Seranan asked, propping up their head. “And I did it to fit in my groceries.” Sydryn picked up one of the shopping bags and held it open. “This is entirely roll cakes!” “Yes. Disgusting, I know. You can blame your little angel for introducing me. Now I have a wicked craving all the time,” Seranan groaned. “Don't blame Köbi for this! When did you even go out and get nine bags of these? You're not to leave the house!” Seranan rolled their eyes and tapped their phone on the table. “They have grocery delivery apps now. Join us in the 21st century, Sissy.” Sydryn fumed. “You of all dragons did not just tell me to modernise...” “Just because I'm a history hoarder does not mean I don't know how to use the internet,” Seranan huffed. Sydryn threw the grocery bag down and pointed to the hall. “Get out of my kitchen immediately!” Seranan rolled their eyes and got up, cradling their underbelly like it was such a struggle. “I bought them for you too, you know. The angel said they’re your favourite.” “Stop talking to Köbi!” Sydryn snarled.
“You should be happy we get along at all...” Seranan shrugged. “All your little pets typically piss me off.” “Köbi is not my pet, he is my employee,” Sydryn growled. “That kind of talk is exactly why I do not want you talking to him.” “Where is the little ‘employee’, anyway?” Seranan huffed. “He should be here to help clean up this mess...” “First of all, he is my assistant, not your maid. Second of all, I was going to ask you the same thing. I had to work late, so he should've been home over an hour ago.” Seranan shrugged. “I haven't seen him.” Sydryn sighed and stepped out into the hall. “Köbi?” they called up the stairs. Köbi poked his head out of the powder room just down the hall. “Yes?” “Ah. You are home. Seranan said they hadn't seen you.” “Huh?” Köbi walked over and looked into the kitchen. “You don't remember me coming in?” Seranan waved a hand. “How am I supposed to pay attention to what you’re doing all the time?” “But you asked for me the minute I got home. We had a whole conversation about where Syd buys their roll cakes,” Köbi reminded. “I thought that was yesterday.” “It was definitely today, because they would've been closed yesterday.” Seranan waved a hand. “Unimportant. Must have slipped my mind. Anyway, your employer's home. Shouldn't you have dinner prepared by now?” “You specifically asked me not to come into the kitchen since you would be occupying it during your delivery,” Köbi reminded. “Several times, I checked back to see if I could get dinner started, but you hissed me away." Seranan frowned and shrugged. Sydryn groaned and grabbed Seranan by the braid. “Clean up this mess immediately, or I will burn all of these desserts and you won't have any dinner tonight!” Seranan whined. “My tail! Sissy, that's so mean! You wouldn't starve a pregnant dragon, would you?” “Starve?” Sydryn motioned the plastic wrappers strewn across the kitchen table. “You've eaten twenty of these already!” “They hold absolutely no nutritional value, though...” “Then stop eating them!” “It's a craving! I can't help it!” Köbi waded through the sea of plastic grocery bags to get to the fridge. “I was going to make a roast, but I don’t really think there’s enough time, so how about…fettuccine?” “Absolutely not. I will vomit if I eat another beet coloured pink pasta noodle,” Seranan declared. Sydryn yanked their sibling’s hair again. “You’ll eat what you’re served.” They looked to Köbi, though. “I need meat.” “Okay… Uh, how about smoked meat sandwiches?” Köbi suggested. “Perfect. Thank you.” Seranan rolled their eyes. “Everything’s always smoked meat, pink pasta, rose tea, salmon, prawns, grapefruit…” With another swift yank, Sydryn spun their sibling around grabbed their wrist tightly. “Are you mocking my hoard?” Seranan snarled, scaling up under Sydryn’s grip. “…You’re hurting me, Sissy.” “Syd, let’s calm down…” Köbi said, reaching out to take the dragon’s arm. Sydryn flinched away. “Don’t! My sibling, whom I so graciously have been putting up and feeding while they escape prosecution for dracocide, seems to think they can have an opinion on how I run my house.” Seranan glared at Sydryn. “Colours are for children. Your hoard is stupid.” Sydryn’s eyes widened, a wild look of pure and concentrated wrath set ablaze inside them. “Syd! No!” A split second later, Köbi was between them, his hands up, his stance wide. Seranan was in shock, having been pushed back down into the kitchen chair, their sibling’s grip relinquished. Sydryn’s crazed look was gone, instead replaced with surprise and distress as they stared at the angel. Light dripped from his cheek as Köbi reached out and placed a hand on Sydryn’s shoulder. “Sleep.” “Köbi—” Before Sydryn could finish, they passed out, falling into the angel’s arms. Köbi grunted under the weight then sighed as they picked up the pregnant dragon bridal style. “You’re hurt,” Seranan finally emitted, slowly standing up. “They struck you.” “I’m fine. Just a little scratch.” Köbi wiped his cheek on his shoulder and the injury completely disappeared. “Better me than you.” “I would’ve been fine,” Seranan stated, straightening up. “Dragons can scar other dragons,” Köbi reminded. “And it’s Syd I’m concerned about. They’re strung out and emotional right now. If they really hurt you, I don’t think they could forgive themself.” Seranan frowned. “So, what are you going to do? They must be heavy…” “I’m going to put them to bed for now,” Köbi said, shaking his head. “But don’t worry about what I’m doing… If I were you, I’d consider cleaning things up around here a bit. Syd won’t stay asleep long. And I think after a long day, waking up to a meal made by family would just make my day. Wouldn’t you agree?” Seranan scrunched their nose. “…You can’t tell me what to do.” “I can’t. I can only make suggestions.” Köbi carried the slumbering dragon out to the hall. “I’ll come back in a minute to help.” The red dragon barely dignified that with a huff. Köbi just continued on, taking Syd up to their bedroom. As soon as they were tucked in, Sydryn began to wake up. “...Köbi.” They looked at the angel standing beside their bed. “Did I... Did I hurt you?” “No.” Köbi shook their head. “Must've been a bad dream.” “Angels shouldn't lie...” Sydryn sighed, rubbing their eyes. “I'm so sorry...” “No, I'm sorry for sleeping you without permission,” Köbi said. “I’m not supposed to touch you...” “You did what you had to,” Syd insisted. “It could have been bad... Is Seranan alright?” Köbi nodded. “Yeah. They're perfectly fine. Don't worry about them. Tell me about your day. What's got you so riled up?” Sydryn sighed and sat up. “Everything. I have patients who shouldn't be getting pregnant getting pregnant, almost getting pregnant, and I'm pregnant, and I also have to keep an eye on Gardi, even though he wants more responsibilities, and Ix and I are supposed to be collaborating on the celestial pregnancy research, but beyond that, they hardly say a word to me and I wonder if somehow I've upset them in some way... I don't know. I genuinely enjoy working with them, but not when they won't even look me in the eyes.” “Oh. Oh, um...” Köbi rubbed his neck. “Well, if you're worried about Ix, I think you should just talk to them about it. With Reid, from what I can tell, he's pretty much fully recovered. If you trusted him to manage your practice while you were away in the Fall, I think you can trust him now. And as for all the patients, maybe giving Reid more responsibilities would be a good thing. You really need a break. You're putting a lot of stress on yourself.” Sydryn shook their head. “I can't take a break. There's too much going on and even if I let Gardi have more responsibilities, he can't take all of them on.” Köbi tilted his head. “Well, right now, you really should just rest. When dinner's ready, I'll bring it up.” “No, I should probably come down and apologise to Seranan,” Sydryn decided. Köbi shook his head. “I don't think you're ready for that. Wait for them to come to you.” Syd sighed, laying their head down. “...Alright. Thank you, Köbi.” “Don't mention it.” Köbi made his way back down the kitchen where Seranan was now trying to stuff away their groceries into any empty cupboard space they could find. Kobi noticed some bread and meat had been pulled out and placed on the kitchen table as well. “Looks like you got started,” Köbi said delighted. “I’ll get the rest out, and—” “I don’t need your help, I am perfectly capable of constructing a few sandwiches…” Seranan growled. “Go about your business.” “Okay… I just wanted to add, um…” Köbi rubbed his neck. “I’m sorry I prioritised Syd in the situation when they lashed out. After what you’ve been through before, I can understand if this situation was…difficult for you.” Seranan’s eyes narrowed as they turned their gaze onto the angel in disgust. “If you’re trying to suggest that any of my experiences have left me weak with ‘emotional trauma’ or some kind of ‘victim complex’, you are sorely mistaken.” “Alright. Well, just so you know, you can always talk to me,” Köbi stated. “Actually, I’ve been explicitly told not to talk to you, and from this point on, I plan to follow along.” “Okay.” Köbi shrugged. “Well, I like pickles with my smoked meat sandwiches.” “I fail to see the one who asked!” Köbi chuckled before backing out. “Talk to you later, then.” “You will not!”
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Neon Lights PART TWO [Tim Drake x Male Reader]
Reading part one is not necessary to understanding the plot!
You may be a thief for hire, but that doesn’t mean you’re a dummy. You know when something big is going on.
For the past month, a client has been running you, and your dear Red Robin, completely ragged. Nearly every night, they had some new demand for some high price piece of tech from some hotshot company with hotshot security. While they made their demands under different names each time, it was pretty easy to tell it was the same schmuck.
It was easy to tell because usually it’s weeks before someone pays you for stealing things, even then the gigs are really small and easy so they don’t pay much. Like, 100$ at least. That’s not enough for your 600$ rent.
This thief for hire thing isn’t actually your main job, you work at a coffee shop. It’s gross, it’s terrible, but it’s more steady then thievery for hire will ever be.
But this client, jeez louise. By the time they’re done with you, you’re gonna be stinking rich. Which is good, because you had to quit being a barista so you could do all of their dirty work without burning out. Literally. Your powers can run out of juice if you use them too much.
After a day of lazing around the house to conserve energy, your client has you out on a mission for this odd little gizmo that Wayne Tech has under its belt. They didn’t tell you what it is, they only provided a picture and the general area it’s in.
There’s an alleyway where the air vent has an opening. It’s not big enough for a regular human being or even a little kid. But it’s the perfect route for you. So when night falls, you slip into the alleyway and stand before your entrance.
You burst into a flurry of photons and neon. From there it’s easy to slip through the cracks in the vents and make your way all the way to the lab. You manifest in a deserted office, right next to the lab.
The office is minimalistic with almost zero personality besides the overflowing trash bin. You wrinkle your nose at it. Someone drinks way too many energy drinks. Ugh, it’s even the worse brand. You’d buy that over your dead body.
You glance at the name plaque on the glossy, neat desk. Tim Drake-Wayne, huh? You feel a thrill at being in the office of someone so important. Especially since they’re not here.
Hmm, how much time do you have? You check your watch. Plenty. So, it won’t throw off your schedule to leave a little surprise for Mister Drake-Wayne.
Delightedly, you take one of the paint markers you made specifically for this purpose and on the underbelly of the desk- wow you’ve never seen a desk with no gum stuck to it- write ‘Nightlight was here :-)���. With a grin, you recap your marker. It’s not a very big mark, it’s likely he’ll never notice. But just the childish glee of vandalism is enough for you.
After your little detour, you quietly creep out of the quiet office. There’s always an otherworldly feeling to being places after dark. The silent, empty halls with no conscious life to be found. You’ve never quite pinned what makes things feel so off, but you enjoy it.
Growing up, you think you never quite got the hang of being with people or having friends. It always felt so shallow when you talked to people, always following the general how are you, I’m good, how are you sort of conversations, never knowing how to delve deeper and hold on to someone. You can wing literally anything other than a conversation, people are just too hard. So, you just... gave up.
It’s sort of depressing, Red Robin is probably the one person who you talk to the most. He’s just so funny to mess with, he has the best reactions. If it weren’t for him, you probably wouldn’t have ever started the graffiti. The first time you did it, it was because he had chased you into a paint store and the spray cans were just there. A whole section of neon. So you grabbed one, left him a gift on the alleyway wall, and the rest was history.
You smile a bit at the memory, wow you’re feeling sappy tonight, aren’t you?
You wave off your maudlin inner monologue and focus on the task at hand. You’re finally in the lab and give it a once over. It’s huge. As all Wayne brand stuff usually is. Haha, that could make a great dirty joke.
No no, it’s serious time, you’re on a mission.
Waving off your funny thoughts, you make your way to the general area you suspect the gizmo might be. You pop your knuckles and get looking.
After about fifteen minutes of searching, you still haven’t found it and you’re already getting a little antsy. It’d be dumb of you to assume Red Robin isn’t onto you, he’s always onto you. So you know this is time sensitive. It’d be so much more convenient if people kept their valuables out in the open.
Just when you’re starting to get a little stressed, you see something out of the corner of your eye. A box you missed, under the desk. You pull it out and rummage through the contents. Then you beam.
Triumphantly, you hold up the gadget. Mission accomplished, baby!
You go to stand, but a paint marker slips from your jacket and clatters onto the ground. As you bend to pick it up, something whizzes over your head and buries itself in the wall.
A birdarang.
Shit.
You whip your head around to see Red Robin standing in the doorway. He strides towards you casually. Uh oh. Casual is never good with him.
“Heyyy Red,” you greet, standing slowly, hiding the gizmo behind your back, “how’s the family?”
“The family’s fine.” He says stopping a few yards away, not moving. Fine, he says. That’s so not a good sign.
“... nice seeing you here,” You say after a small pause, “Working late?”
“These are my normal business hours.”
“Right, right.” You both begin to circle one another and wooow, Red really is pissed at you.
It suddenly hits you as to why.
“... did you like the paint job?”
Red Robin whips out his bo staff and lunges. You dart to the door, forgo any stealth, and kick it open. Birdarangs fly by your head as you skid down the hallway.
“OKAY, I GUESS NOT!”
Oh man, oh man, Red chasing you has never felt so scary. Jeez louise, is Redbird that important to him?
Footsteps pound closely behind you and just as Red Robin tries to snag your collar, you burst into lights and slip back out the vents. Red, too distracted to realize how close he was to the wall, isn’t able to stop himself in time and he slams face first into the wall. He falls back, clutching his nose and cursing up a storm. You’d have giggled if you had a voice box in life form.
And so, like all your encounters before, you get away.
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The Blood Pact- Part 8
@the-fluffy-underbelly
TWENTY-TWO
Contact
“This is small. It’s cute. It’ll be pretty.” Says Brostin. About what I assume is an explosive. Hope he’s right.
“Through the half open door, they could all see fierce bright flames licking up out of the wall heater. Sparks were boiling out across the inner office carpet, igniting smaller fires, and a thick, acrid smoke was already pouring into the main vox office area.” Oh, good, it’s just a little fire.
“In Beltayn’s pocket was the small screwdriver and the fourth and final panel screw. There had been no time to fit it. He prayed no one would notice the fact that it was missing.” Uh oh. Hope that doesn’t come back to bite them in the ass.
“Give me that,” Meryn hissed, trying to snatch the mic out of Varl’s hand. Varl slapped Meryn’s hands away repeatedly.” LOL, slapfight.
“Got a better term for them?” Hark asked. “Bunch of criminal idiots, perhaps? Recidivist morons?” Hey, only, like, two of them are idiots!
“Cant? Can you cook or can’t you?” Poor Cant.
TWENTY-THREE
Headshots
“The floors were varnished and blacked, the walls were painted in dark, subdued colours, and the hall chairs and drapery were silky blacks, purples and maroons. It felt like the foyer of an upmarket bordello.” Uh. Sure. I’d think more of a funeral home, but ok.
“Gaunt realised that it wasn’t a bordello that Jaume’s premises reminded him of. Rather, it was a funeral parlour.” Oh, there we go.
“Ahead, the famous Gate, defended by the woe machines of Heritor Asphodel.” I can’t remember if it was mentioned that Asphodel was at Balhaut when he appeared in Necropolis. I don’t think so, this was probably thought up later.
Of course not. With the Ghosts, I’ve walked through bad, and worse, and worse still. Balhaut was just an action. They’re all just actions. Balhaut was a major action. A major action. Of course it sticks in my memory. But it doesn’t define me.” He says. But Criid sees right through him and...
“I think Balhaut was hell on a stick, and I think it matters to you because Slaydo mattered to you more than you’d like to admit. I think Balhaut is an old wound for you.” Because she’s perceptive and she’s figured out that being on the planet is botherin him to some degree.
“I applaud your imagination, but it wasn’t like that. Believe what you like, the only thing you really need to know is this: I would never have missed the chance of becoming the Ghosts’ commander. Tanith, Verghast, Belladon, it’s been an honour to serve alongside them all.” That’s... rather sweet. Too bad the moment got ruined.
TWENTY-FOUR
Repulse
“As it had, by then, stopped snowing outside, Rawne considered this to be ironic.” I... guess? It’s sort of ironic that there’s static snow on the monitors now that it’s stopped snowing outside.
“He’d used precisely the same skill set that made him a decorated major in the Imperial Guard, the same skill set that had got him in and out of particular places like the Hagian Doctrinopolis, and Gereon, and trouble in general.” Too smart for his own damn good sometimes.
“He hadn’t done any of it because he was that fussed about getting rich. Rawne had done it because he was getting terminally bored.” And crime is exciting.
“Oh, for feth’s sake,” said Varl, “this is just too painful to watch.” Varl’s judging the intruders for being shit at intruding.
“Meryn and Leyr were part of Rawne’s inner circle for two principal reasons. One was that neither of them had the most crashing respect for rules and regulations. The other was that they were both excellent card players.” Are there many Ghosts who totally respect the rules? There are some, but most don’t seem to very much.
“Now he understood. He got it, as clear as day.
Csoni had been expecting someone to let him in.
Rawne picked up the keys. He decided it may as well be him.” Well, it won’t be boring.
“He was, however, feeling sportive.” Oh, great. Just what we need, with Rawne.
“Daur was comforting Elodie at the bar. Rawne raised an eyebrow. He knew precisely where comforting like that could lead a man.” I assume he means with him and Banda.
“After a moment, the chuckling had become proper laughter, and Banda had joined in.” Hey, they’re having fun!
“The vox is down and dead. We’ve lost contact with Aarlem, and I think it’s permanent.” And then bad news.
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The Prince and the Pauper (that drives an Uber) Ch. 2
Part One | Two | Three | Four
Prince Steve paid for the hotel—he wanted one with neon lights, ideally a blinking palm tree, for some reason, until Billy explained you couldn’t order food. In the face of a royal pout, he offered to pick up pizza, and Steve studied the menu on his phone before ordering five pizzas, deleting them, and yanking Billy closer to consult.
Billy watched him scroll through, and leaned closer. “I could tell you all the reasons you don’t want to stay in the cheapest motel,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s ear to make him duck his head in a grin, “—but...I’ve never stayed in a nice hotel.”
“Ohhhh,” Steve trailed off, then pulled him into a soft kiss. “You should—you should definitely get to, I’ll take you somewhere nice.”
Billy breathed a sigh of relief, remembering driving back from his dad’s place, Max silent as he got a motel room and brushed rat droppings off the pillowcases. The sticky carpet had adhered to their shoes, making a crisp tape-like noise when he returned with sandwiches, and realized Max had gotten him out of the way so she could cry in the bathroom. He had tiptoed out, walked around the block, and come in again.
The idea of taking a prince to a motel with foot-long wads of hair and crud whipping wildly from the front of the AC units, or pipes so rusted out the water looked like old blood...was a great idea for a horror movie, he thought, imagining the cursive, loopy pastel font of the movie he was currently in. I want a romcom, he admitted to himself, watching Steve flick the pizzas away to frown at tourist guide listings.
“The nicest,” said Steve, scrolling through search results. “Hot tub?”
“I’d probably be impressed anyway,” Billy told him, staring at the pictures of penthouse suites. “That’s so much money, no!”
Steve grinned at him. “Their security is best. Technically I am a target of assassination attempts—”
“Technically?! What happened?!” Billy choked, his hands tightening on Steve’s arm without his permission, like he was going to prevent...something. Steve blowing away in the wind, maybe, or someone shoplifting him. This was what the money was for, he reminded himself, resisting the urge to laugh hysterically—he had driver duties now, and one of them was to hang onto his prince’s hand like a helpless moron.
Steve grimaced. “It’s been years. And I was in the car with an archbishop—”
“What happened,” Billy said, and Steve grimaced, hunching his shoulders.
“A...car...bomb?”
Billy didn’t even think, he just yanked the other full-grown man in the car towards him, squeezing his muscular shoulders until Steve banged into the the gearshift. “Jesus christ on a cracker,” Billy whispered.
Steve was muttering something else in a language Billy didn’t know, swearing and rubbing his hip, and Billy let him go.
“Shit, shit, I’m sorry,” Billy apologized. “Sorry.”
“I don’t think I was the target,” Steve laughed, reaching over to pull Billy’s face close enough to kiss his cheek, while Billy’s head played a unhelpful recording of every movie explosion he’d ever seen, burning tires spinning away, and people trapped in crushed metal as the gas pooled near the flames. “I was greeting a black archbishop from Zimbabwe,” Steve said casually. “There were nazis—” he flapped his hand.
Billy made some kind of weird noise in his throat, cleared it, and said “Give me the fucking directions, we’re getting you to a fucking hotel.”
“A nice one,” Steve laughed, checking his phone. “We can get dinner.”
“Is that the only time somebody tried to kill you?” Billy asked, staring at the phone and repeating the address in his head, as a mantra.
Steve winced, opening his mouth, then biting his lips. “Uhhhh...noooooo?” he trailed off, and Billy smacked randomly at the passenger seat, unwilling to take his eyes from the road. He connected with something, soft hoodie over muscle, and Steve laughed, pushing his hand away. “Um. I…”
“You are a shitty liar,” Billy told the prince in his passenger seat.
“Maybe don’t google me,” Steve said, grimacing, and Billy gunned the motor to get through the yellow light. “Why,” Billy hissed. “Did your family get gunned down behind a theater? Are you the goddamn Batman?”
“What?” Steve snorted. “No? Aneurysm.”
“Holy shit, jesus christ,” Billy said, clenching the steering wheel. “Fuck, I was kidding, goddamn.”
“Just my mom,” Steve shrugged, as Billy shot him a disbelieving glance. “It’s fine, I don’t even remember her, I was just two—”
“Oh my god,” Billy choked out. “I’m so fucking sorry, holy crap.”
“She was a beautiful princess?” Steve said brightly, laughing at Billy’s enraged muttering. “My dad didn’t take royal title when he married her—he didn’t want to quit his job—so everybody joked that if he’d been a prince, he could’ve woken her up with a kiss. If only he thought ahead, right?”
“That’s horrible,” Billy whispered. “That’s so fucked up.”
“It’s a little funny,” Steve said, shrugging, and Billy groaned, pulling into the parking lot under the hotel.
Steve was watching out the window, his brain probably somewhere else entirely, when Billy pulled up to the window and accepted the paper ticket. “Oh, wait,” Steve said, as Billy pulled around to look for a parking space. “Did you have to pay? I never have to pay, I forgot—”
“Poor little rich boy,” Billy muttered. “Nah, I’ll pay on my way out.”
“Mmn,” Steve said, sighing. “Okay.”
“Sorry I said stupid shit about your parents,” Billy told him, grimacing as Steve got out of the car and wandered away to frown around the parking garage before smiling, waving back at Billy, and pointing triumphantly to the stairs. Billy started to follow, then remembered there was an entire goddamn crown rolling around in his backseat, and climbed over to stretch for it, and wrap the thing up in Steve’s discarded starchy white wedding jacket. “Jesus,” Billy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and getting out. “Sorry, again,” he said again, trotting up, and Steve shrugged.
“How nice? You want the honeymoon suite, or—”
“I just don’t wanna wake up to a crack-smoking rat sucking my dick,” Billy told him, eyes narrowed. “You can get STDs from the sheets in some of those motels.”
Steve blinked, staring at him, his mouth twitching. “That’s...vivid,” he said, biting back a snicker. “What do you think? I think I deserve a honeymoon suite,” he said thoughtfully.
You deserve anything you want, Billy didn’t say, or I love you. He cleared his throat. “Sure. What’s that do? You get wine or something?” He wasn’t, strictly speaking, supposed to drink on work nights, but Max would understand. Probably. Billy ran his fingers through his curls, making a face.
“This one sounds like it’s breakfast in bed for two—”
“I’m onboard—” Billy cut in immediately, and Steve laughed.
“—they put rose petals on the bed, I guess?”
“Only fair,” Billy nodded, leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder to look at the pictures. “Princes probably need some flowers to feel right. Few woodland animals, maybe.”
“...you saying I should sing at the birds on the balcony?”
“Yeah, charm some pigeons,” Billy nodded. “Tell ‘em you got good and laid on your honeymoon.”
The lady behind the hotel desk didn’t realize they were together, and tried to step between them to take Steve to his room, but she apologized profusely when Steve grabbed Billy’s hand.
Once they got there, Billy stood staring at the glass shower in the middle of the room. “...I feel like a creep just standing here,” he said, frowning.
Steve snickered, pulling the hoodie off over his head. Billy watched him fold it and sit it on a chair, and missed it already—Prince Steve, cozy in Billy’s faded hoodie, smelling like laundry soap. Steve pulled the shirt off too, and then Billy wasn’t thinking about anything but skin.
Billy peeled out of his shirt, and swaggered closer to lift Steve’s chin for a kiss.
“Mmn,” Steve hummed into it, then pulled away, sprawling back across the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows to rake his gaze up and down Billy’s body.
“Surveying the goods?” Billy asked, flexing, and resisting the urge to cover the slight softness of his stomach, come from nights eating in the car between fares instead of hitting the gym, and evenings with Max eating ice cream and watching stupid TV.
“Never done this before,” Steve said, off-handedly, and Billy folded his arms on reflex, feeling his smile turn a little mean.
“Never what,” he laughed. “Never fucked a guy? Or a what, a servant? Never been this bored?”
“Jesus,” Steve sat up again, brows scrunched over uncertain brown eyes. “You want to stop? We can—”
“No, no,” Billy took a slow breath, imagining his therapist’s voice. Listen to what people actually say, she’d said. “Sorry. I—I’m—you’ve never done what. Exactly.”
“Any of this,” Steve said, pulling his legs up on the bed.
He was scrunching himself up, Billy realized, pulling his limbs in to protect his tender underbelly, and Billy forced himself forward and put his hands on either side of Steve’s hot, slightly stubbly face. “Hey, hey, you’re all...pillbugged up. Uh...nobody knows you’re gay?” he asked the prince, in the honeymoon suite, trying to be...gentle.
“I’m not,” Steve said, scooting back against the headboard, and Billy jerked his hands back.
“Well, I’m glad I helped you get that straight,” he shot back, scrambling off the bed and yanking his pants off the floor.
“Wait, wait, Billy—” Steve crawled after him, swinging his legs down, and Billy stopped, registering his prince was so hard he was leaking, his dick rubbing shiny streaks across his legs as he moved. “I’m not straight, wait, I’m—I like men too, and—” he frowned into the middle distance, bending his knee up again, to lean his chin on it, “—I was at a red carpet thing and Indya Moore walked by and my heart stopped, I swear to god, I am definitely into…” he mouthed at the ceiling, frowning. “Thudes?”
“...sorry,” Billy said, dropping his jeans, and rubbing his face with his hands. “Sorry. I keep—I’m waiting for the punchline, tonight, sorry.”
“I’m sorry,” Steve said cautiously, and Billy walked back over to sit on the edge of the bed.
“No, shit, I’m sorry. Sorry,” Billy said, reaching out to squeeze his prince’s hand. “You’re...perfect.”
“You’re perfect,” Steve shot back, narrowing his eyes, and Billy snorted a laugh and coughed. Steve sighed. “I should look up the words,” he said, beckoning. “So that doesn’t...happen again. Come back. Come here.”
“Thought maybe I scared you straight,” Billy huffed a laugh, scooting closer, and Steve smirked up at him.
“Gonna have to try a lot harder than that,” he said.
“Lemme kiss you,” Billy told him, feeling hoarse, then jerked with surprise as Steve surged up to kiss him open-mouthed, tasting of mint and latex, and pulling Billy across him onto the bed in a crash of elbows, knees, stiff bridal uniform trousers, and bumping teeth. “God, feels like I just married you,” Billy whispered, rubbing his nose with a wince where it had connected with Steve’s jaw.
He could feel his face getting hot again, but with Steve grinning under him, all he could think about was soft lips, and the warm, firm skin against his. “Should have carried you across the threshold,” he whispered, bracing himself on his elbows to hover over Steve’s chest.
“Maybe you should’ve,” he said, laughing. “Maybe—”
“Maybe I should,” Billy said, sliding off the bed to scoop the royal heir into his arms, spin them both around—Steve whooped, slinging his arms around Billy’s neck and kicking his feet—and walking them out the door of the hotel room.
It locked.
“Oh shit!” Billy breathed, and Steve burst into snickers, hugging him tighter around the neck.
“I’ve got the keycard in my pocket,” he whispered, kissing Billy’s jaw. “Husband.”
“Shit,” Billy answered, laughing along now he knew he hadn’t locked them out. Steve squirmed around to dig into his pocket, and waved it at the door. “Good thing it’s not real,” Billy said into his hair. “Married to me, jesus.”
“You want a divorce already?” Steve asked, blinking wide eyes up at him, and Billy spun them around, kissing him on the way to the bed, his muscles complaining as he wished he’d spent more time at the gym and less time trying to keep track of Max’s anime addictions.
“No, no, you want me, you’ve got me,” Billy panted, sitting on the bed and letting them both fall sideways, so Steve’s legs were half on top of him.
“Good, I can’t take getting dumped that often,” Steve mumbled, sliding his hand around the back of Billy’s neck, and yanking him into a kiss.
Steve was warm, and laughing, and Billy pushed back on questioning his good luck. Something had to go right eventually, he told himself. Balance out the rest of my life. He oofed as Steve rolled on top of him.
“Hey,” Steve whispered, sliding his hands over Billy’s chest and shoulders with a little intent smile like he was exploring the unknown.
“Hey,” Billy whispered back, folding his arms behind his back, both so he could watch, and to make his arms flex. “Finding anything good?”
“Started out good, keeps getting better,” Steve mumbled, narrowing his eyes as he scooted forward to lean in for a kiss. Billy was already feeling his face heat, wondering who even said shit like that, when their cocks brushed, and he groaned, bucking his hips into the sensation. “God, I’m so lucky,” Steve mumbled against Billy’s lips, and Billy barked a laugh, yanking him in by the back of his head and hair for a slow kiss, the kind where Billy could see what made his prince hum happily and press closer.
Steve shifted on top of him, squishing and sliding their cocks together, and Billy made an undignified squeaking noise into his mouth. Steve lifted his head, laughing, and then leaned in again just as a knock came on the door.
Billy didn’t even register the noise, pushing himself up on his elbows to chase the kiss he’d been deprived of, but Steve pushed him back down, laughing. “Stay here, I’ll get it,” he whispered, and Billy blinked after him, bereft.
Room service brought half the menu, it looked like, and Billy stared, sitting up. “...you’re probably hungry,” he said, laughing, and Steve lifted a few lids and stuck his finger in one, then closed the lid again and crawled over, sticking a finger full of maple syrup in Billy’s mouth as he dropped next to him.
Billy watched him, feeling his skin heat again at Steve’s matter-of-fact appraisal of his dick, which was hard as rock, dripping from watching Steve peel back out of the robe, and bend over the cart.
“Hungry for you first,” Steve said, lying half on top of him so he could fist their dicks together, and looking kind of delighted as he tried it. Billy wondered in passing if Steve had watched something similar in porn, or invented it himself, but couldn’t hold back a groan at the feeling of tight, warm skin on his cock, and Steve’s smile as he kissed the syrup off Billy’s lips. “Even sweeter,” he whispered, and Billy snorted a laugh, his face so hot it burned.
He’d meant to make it good for Prince Steve, soft and slow, and there he was, pinned and writhing, his fists clenched in the sheets, while the royal hand worked his cock. “Billy,” Steve whispered, his breath hot as Billy moaned against his mouth.
“Anything,” Billy mumbled back, and came all over their stomachs. Steve was only a few seconds later, and Billy hugged him close, sticky and panting. “Anything,” he whispered again, burying his face in Steve’s hair.
“You’re enough already,” Steve laughed, smiling. “I was just saying your name. You’re perfect.”
Billy snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “Sure,” he said, smiling back.
Steve sat up, frowning down at his messy stomach, and Billy swung his legs off the bed and ran to the bathroom. He returned with a wet cloth to wipe up his prince’s belly, then fold it and scrub it over his sides, and up his chest, until Steve laughed and kissed him again, squishing the gross washcloth between them.
The next morning, Billy went to slide out of bed and get to class, and Prince Stephen of Blois, Grand Cross of the Order of the House of Orange, rolled over to slide an arm around his waist, kissing his side. The royal stubble tickled, and Billy squirmed around to face his attacker.
“Hey,” Steve whispered, reaching up to stroke his knuckles down Billy’s stubble.
Billy realized there was no reason compelling enough to leave, and crawled back over his fare-turned-seducer and prince. “…what are you doing today?” he asked, and Steve raised his eyebrows, then pulled Billy down to lie on top of him. His warm hands slid up Billy’s back as he hummed thoughtfully, and Billy was relieved to find the squirming body under him was nearly as hard as he was.
“…thought you said you had class,” Steve whispered, and Billy laughed, nuzzling in to kiss his neck.
“I get…okay grades…” Billy mumbled, catching the skin of Steve’s neck between his teeth, and feeling him groan. “…miss a day.”
Steve’s groan turned more resigned. “How about we meet again after class?” he asked, and Billy froze, then sat back, frowning down.
“…you can just tell me to stop,” he said.
“I don’t want you to stop,” Steve told him, grabbing Billy’s hand and kissing it, so Billy could feel the royal breath, warm across his knuckles. “But you—you stopped working to take me bowling, I can’t make you miss school.”
“It’s okay,” Billy laughed, his eyes fixed on the prince kissing his hand, like they were at Cinderella’s ball. “I’m not that dumb,” he muttered. “I can miss one day.”
“You’re not dumb,” Steve frowned, and Billy’s grin widened.
“You wanna bet, pretty boy?”
“I was…what if I want to…see you again?” Steve muttered, and Billy raised his eyebrows. “You have to tell me no, if I’m interrupting something—“
Billy squinted. “The fuck do you mean, see me again. You’re going back to—to Europe, right?”
“Not today,” Steve sighed, stretching, and then rubbing his face so Billy couldn’t see his expression.
“Just a few days, though,” Billy insisted. “I can free up my time, I’m nobody important—“
Steve dropped a hand to Billy’s thigh. “So you do want to see me,” he said flatly, and Billy swallowed.
“Y-yeah,” he laughed, watching Steve’s hands, instead of his face. “Of course. You got time for me, I’m there.”
“...okay,” Steve said, and he sounded like he was smiling, so Billy looked up to see his foreign royalty with a little grin on his face, and pink cheeks. Billy leaned in to kiss him, and Steve mumbled happily against his mouth. “...alright,” Steve said, stroking his fingers through Billy’s tangled hair. “I’ll see you after your classes. Text me.”
Billy half-wanted to threaten him. Say ‘if you don’t mean that, just fuck me now,’ but he took a slow breath, and didn’t do anything insane, like punch next to Steve’s head, and whisper threats about liars. “Yeah,” he said, getting up off the bed, wishing he could just—just jack off looking at Steve, lying there with his long legs and the curve of his ass cheek hanging out of the blankets. He thought about Max’s face if he admitted he’d tried to ditch work and school for some kind of sex marathon with a stranger, and yanked his jeans up.
“Love to watch you leave,” Steve sang, hanging half off the bed, and Billy burst out laughing, and nearly stumbled and fell with his jeans halfway up his hips.
“Call me,” he called back as he yanked his sweatshirt on. It smelled like expensive cologne, and he didn’t look back as he left, thinking hard about cleaning the kitchen drain to try and get his cock to go back to sleep. Steve yelled something as he closed the door, but Billy just ducked his head and ran for the stairs.
Billy’d organized his classes to be done, most days, by eleven in the morning. It left time for homework, and packing lunches for he and Max the next day, and a nap before work.
At eleven-oh-three, he was playing with his phone, biting his lips, and looking at the contact picture of Prince Steve failing hard at bowling. Finally, he tossed it in the passenger seat and drove home.
There was folded, stacked laundry on the table, along with a piece of paper that said ‘BROTHER SHAMING: what has he left in his pocketses’ on which dwelt an empty bottle of sunscreen, a pile of quarters, the now-half-wrapped, linty Starburst candies he’d grabbed instead of cigarettes, a handful of shredded Kleenex, a tube of eyeliner that was oozing blackened water onto the note, tiny bottles of mint schnapps and mint mouthwash, and a gooey pile that might once have been a cookie. Billy bit his lips together, raising his eyebrows, and cleaned his pockets out right there on the table.
It was sort of the opposite of a treasure hunt, usually—wadded up wrappers full of gum, stuff people left in his back seat—but today he slapped down the wad of hundred-dollar bills Steve had given him, and heard Max gasp from the doorway.
“Oh my jesus,” she whispered. “Billy. Did—what did you—did you—did you get a sugar daddy? Are you—are you letting some asshole millionaire fuck your ass?!” She grabbed his wrist, squeezing it hard, but he was laughing too hard, half-collapsing against the table, to answer helpfully. “Did you rob a bank?!” she squeaked. “Did you fuck a bank robber?! Billy!”
“No!” He cackled, dropping into a chair, and leaning his face in his arms. “No, no—”
“Is it real?!” she hissed, crouching to eyeball the money at face-level, then shuffling close to sniff it. “It smells like Skittles,” she whispered. “Billy...you could go to jail, don’t whore yourself out to counterfeiters—”
He laughed so hard he wasn’t even making noise anymore, and she punched his shoulder.
“At least make them pay with real money!” she hissed. “Is your ass counterfeit?! No!”
“No,” he wheezed, and she smacked his shoulder.
“What did you do,” she growled. “What the fuck, brother mine.”
“It’s real,” he whispered, trying to stop giggling. “It’s real, it’s fine.”
“What did you do to get it,” she asked, eyes narrowed, and he grinned at her ferocity. “Billy. Are you safe,” she asked, grabbing his sleeve, and he nodded, wiping his eyes.
“It’s fine, Max, I swear. I didn’t do anything shitty—”
“Did anyone do anything shitty to you,” she growled again, like a redheaded wolverine, and Billy started snickering again, grabbing her and noogieing her head until she yelled and yanked hard on a handful of his hair.
“I’m okay,” he told her. “I don’t owe anybody anything, I’m not in trouble, and I didn’t do anything I didn’t wanna do.”
“...okay,” she said suspiciously. “Can we...spend it? All we got is cereal and canned beans.”
“Yeah, go nuts,” Billy sighed, leaning his chin on his arms and imagining Steve’s grin, pressed against the door of the bathroom stall as he tried to hand his one-night-stand enough money to let Billy relax for a month. “Don’t, like, blow it all, but get some greens, maybe. I wanna take my car in, see why it’s making that whinny.”
“Damn. Yeah,” Max stared at her hands as she counted the money, then shook her head. “Christ, Billy, we could get a new toaster.”
“...it works,” he muttered, but eyed it speculatively. “Maybe we should wait. Save it, y’know. Just in case I—”
“It sparked so bad yesterday it was—it was like lightning in the kitchen,” she said with a grimace. “I threw a Pop Tart in and didn’t have the lights on, and I pushed the thing down and—GAH. Seriously, one of these days, you—you’re gonna find me on the kitchen floor with smoking hair.”
“Okay,” Billy nodded, making a face. “But then we gotta save some. I get sick, there’s no way to cover bills—”
“I know that!” she yelled. “That’s why I want a job, asshole!”
“I can do this!” he yelled back, and she narrowed her eyes, taking a step back and away, and Billy bit his lips, turning to face the other way. “I—I’ve got this, okay, just—just fucking—go to school and shit, you’re fourteen—”
“You’re eighteen!” she shot back. “You can’t even buy liquor!”
“I know!” he shouted at the wall, wanting to scream. “I know, I—I’m—we’ll get a fucking toaster, okay, I—I got you, will you just—”
“You don’t have to!” she shrieked back at him, and the neighbor started pounding on the wall.
“Shut up,” Billy sighed. He grabbed his phone, stomped into his bedroom, and locked the door.
He could hear Max slamming around in the kitchen, and he groaned, burying his face in his pillow, when his text alert went off. He clicked it, sniffling.
Prince: You off in time for lunch? Or dinner?
Billy stared at it, and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, blew out, and texted back.
Billy: Out of school
Billy: don’t have to work today because somebody handed me a stack of CASH last night
The phone rang, and Billy cleared his throat before he answered.
“You wanna pick me up? I’ll get you lunch,” said his prince.
“Y-yeah,” Billy nodded, wiping his nose.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, and he sounded so urgent Billy wanted to bawl.
“Nah, it’s fine,” he said, curling up tighter on the bed. “I—I’ll come and—you still at the hotel?”
“Yes I am,” Steve said, “I’m—is there anything I can do?”
“You already fucking did,” Billy grated out. “I have money and my kid sister is all excited to have a toaster that won’t kill us and worried as shit I’ll get sick and we won’t have any money left—”
“A toaster?” Steve repeated, startled. “Are you—you okay?”
“We’ll be fine,” Billy growled out, his vision blurring with tears again. “I’m—it’s fine, it’s just—” Steve waited, and Billy rolled onto his face, punching the pillow. His throat hurt. “I don’t have custody,” he whispered. “She—I’m her step-brother, you know, I just—god. Anything happens to me, she’s—”
Steve was quiet at the other end, and Billy wondered whether he’d hung up. “...but you’re fine?” he asked finally. “Right now, you’re okay?”
“I can do this,” Billy told him, swallowing hard. “She doesn’t need to—she’s trying to—she’s just a kid, she doesn’t need to—”
“...she’s worried about her brother?” Steve asked, and it sounded like he was smiling.
“She wants to get some—some sleazy job that’d hire kids,” Billy growled at him. “Help pay for things. She’s gonna do something dumb—”
“Maybe there’s a way she could help?” Steve suggested, and Billy sat up, glaring out the window, then down at his hands.
“She doesn’t need to! She already—she did all the laundry, and she’s out with your money buying food—she’ll probably cook something shitty—”
“I could get her dinner too,” Steve offered, laughing.
“She’s fourteen,” Billy hissed at him, and Steve was quiet for a long moment.
“Uh.” Steve paused. “Um...you know you’re her brother, right?”
“I’m not, that’s the problem—and I know, I’m—I’m trying, I just can’t—I can’t get it right, I never get anything—”
“Wait, wait, Billy,” Steve interrupted. “Billy.”
“Yeah,” Billy whispered, wiping his eyes.
“Just...why do you do all this?”
“The fuck do you mean why,” Billy yelled. “She called me, she—she needed—she needed me to—”
“Yeah, okay,” Steve agreed, “—but why’d you do it?”
“I didn’t want my fucking dad to fracture her eye socket!” Billy told him, squirming under the covers to muffle his voice.
“...jesus,” Steve whispered. “But you did all this for her, right. She moved in with you?”
“I got an apartment,” Billy mumbled. “Ditched my roommates.”
“...so you did it to help her.”
“I had to,” Billy groaned. “The hell was I gonna say?”
“You could have called the police?” Steve suggested.
“What, wait until he does it?!”
“No!” Steve laughed, sounding a little raw himself. “But all this—all these—all this you do, you do for her? You do all this to help her, right?”
Billy narrowed his eyes. “What’s your point?”
“Why can’t she help you?”
“She’s a kid!”
“...can I see you? Can I meet you somewhere?”
Billy cleared his throat, again. “Yeah. Yes. Let me—” he took a deep, shaky breath, and got out of bed. “Where do you want me to go?”
“...what if…” Steve trailed off, and Billy’s throat closed again, as he registered the mess he’d just dumped in a stranger’s lap. “What about a movie?” he asked, and Billy started snickering.
“You can just hang up, jesus,” he said, stretching. “When somebody starts moaning all this shit. You met me once.”
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Yeah, once. Liked what I saw, though.”
Billy glared at the phone, his heart pounding as he wondered whether princes actually went to some kind of charm school, specifically to cause heart attacks in Uber drivers. ‘Course, somebody smarter might not take him so serious, he realized, then groaned dramatically through his fingers. “Fine. Awesome. What movie you wanna see?”
“I do not know,” Steve said slowly. “...trying to search while I’m talking to you, and it kind of…where is there even...”
“I’ll come get you,” Billy told him, smiling irrepressibly. He ducked his head as he walked out of his bedroom, and caught the pajama pants Max threw at his face.
“The hell are you going?!” she asked, sliding across the floor in her socks to glower up at him. “No! We’re watching Die Hard! You said!”
“Gonna meet him again,” Billy said, pulling his shoes on. “He’s leaving town.”
“You’re trading your ass to your drug lord again?” she asked, sounding resigned, and Billy stared at her. “Uh-huh. Try to get twenties this time, lady at the grocery store thought I was a hooker, I think. Probably. Or I robbed a bank? Or I robbed a hooker that robbed a bank—”
“She what,” Billy mumbled, horrified, but Max shoved a handful of granola bars in his pocket, and held the door open.
“You got condoms?” she asked, her eyes narrowed, and Billy shouted back a YES, MAX, I FUCKING DO as he fled down the stairs, his cheeks burning hot.
Part One | Two | Three | Four
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Young Hope: Chapter 40
The afternoon sun beats down upon the planes of suburbia just outside of Townsville; some of its warming light beaming straight through the window of a residence and cast upon the bottom half of a blue haired woman, who stands atop a step stool as she reaches up to her kitchen ceiling fan. Carefully does she continue to unscrew the fan’s frame keeping it atop the kitchen, each screw she twists out dropping down into the palm of her hand; one of them winds up slipping out from her grasp and falling to the tile floor. As she peers down to the screw that had just dropped, the woman is left astonished when finding a lone limb of pure black slither through the air underneath; the shock alone upsetting her balance and causing her to fall right off the stool and onto the floor. Amidst shaking off the short fall does the blue haired woman then watch’s the slithering limb split apart into two; one part reaching over to the fridge while the other heads up to the cabinet beside. From within the fridge does one strand pull out the jug of whole milk while the other takes out a tall glass out from the cabinet; pouring the milk right up near the rim of the glass before neatly putting the galleon right back inside before slithering back through the kitchen with glass in hand.
With a short breath escaping from her lips does the woman’s daughter race right on into the kitchen; giving the woman a hand as she asks:
“Mom! You alright?”
“Yeah Mally. Just got a little spooked by Roy’s new arm is all.” the mother explains as she’s pulled back onto her feet. “Oh yeah. It’s taking me a little bit longer to get used to too.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m so glad for Roy getting a brand new arm to replace the old one he lost several months back, but the way you described how it just came bursting out from his arm socket still has me concerned. Have you at least talked to him about it yet?” “I’ve been giving him some time to enjoy having both arms again before spoiling the fun. It’s been only a week now since we got back home.”
“Well when do you think it might be time to let the party train grind to a halt to check the cargo its got in the back?” “I think I might just start.” the orange girl answers before strolling off towards the hall.
Waltzing right through their hallway does Mally head towards the slightly cracked open door set along the very end of the hall; the roller bladder slowly pushing the door open and letting the hallway light seep into the darkened room. “Roy...You in here?” she says out tot he dark, baiting nothing but silence. Among peering through the dark recesses do a pair of violet glowing eyes emerge from the void; the silhouette they belong to lumbering closer as they stare upon the young lady. Finally pushing the bedroom wide open does the hallway light flood through the room and reveal the purple angel himself standing before the girl; Roy looking to her with a calming smile and uttering:
“Hey there.”
As the merc starts to drink the glass of milk held in his arm of pure black, the orange lass slowly steps into his bedroom as she asks:
“Hey Roy...So uh, h-how have ya been feeling this past week with your new arm?”
“Holy shit. It’s been so fucking great. I didn’t think I’d miss having both arms this badly. Plus with all that my new arm is capable off, I’m finding new ways to put it to use that his old limb could only gestural feint over; some uses far more pleasurable than before.”
“Yeah, I get it. You can have sex with people using your arm. What I’m really asking here is if you’ve felt even the slightest bit off since it came bursting out yer side? Any odd or upsetting thoughts going through your head...like more depraving than usual?” Mally retells. “Eh...outside of wondering if a dead body could be stuffed inconspicuously inside a recliner for about a week without no one noticing, haven’t really had much like that on the mind.” “Any physical pain or altercations?”
“Hmm...Nope.”
“Really?...Take your hoodie off then.”
“Whoa, whoa, Mal. I know were not blood related. But I still see you as a little sister so that’d be pretty damn wro-”
“Just take it off!”
“Alright, fine. Jesus.” the merc complies with, starting to slip off his treasure purple hood.
Upon finally beholding her brother’s bare chest do the skater’s eyes widen as her pupils shrink, nearly falling over as she screams out through the house:
“Holy shit!”
“Mally! What did I say about cussing in the hou- Oh my god!” the mom comes over to scold, though left just as taken aback when beholding the same sight as her daughter. Both of them are left horrified when discovering numerous black veins that run right across the purple merc’s bare chest like an encroaching infection and covering his upper body; Roy left wondering to both of them:
“The hell are you girl’s screaming about?” “You can’t be serious.” Mally utters.
“Honey, have you checked yourself in the mirror lately?” the mom questions with quiet worry. “Oh, you mean all these going through my bod. Pretty damn cool, right?”
“No!” the blue haired mother blurts out.
“I-is-is that-I Iiis all that even hurting you, making you bleed out or something!” Mally asks. “Chill, alright. I’ve never felt better. All this is just fine.”
“It’s pulsating veins are literally rooting through your body!” the mom adds.
“Oh my god. I seriously can’t believe you two. I finally gotten a break after all the messed up bull I gone through and your practically demonizing the prize I won at the end. Can’t you people be happy that I got an arm again, one that’s better than the old one?” Roy complains. “Roy, were not worried about you having a new arm. We’re worried about what it’s doing to you.” the mom specifies. “How do you two know it ain’t doing anything bad, maybe all this black veins going through my bod is improving me like nanomachines making him stronger; like that one guy in Metal Gear Rising. What was his name again? How the hell am I forgetting his name?” “We need to see a doctor about this.” the mom claims. “Mom, what would a doctor even start to make of this? I doubt they could give a feasible diagnosis over something this outlandishly dark appendage that came spurting out.” her daughter mentions. “What else can we do about it?” the blue haired woman questions back. ‘Uh...Alex said that this thing was made up of the same stuff he was. But that really doesn’t say much. Roy, you got his number right? Think giving him a call might be best on the table.” the skater comes to. “Already tried. Every call just goes to voice mail. Can’t sense him anywhere in Town either. Fact, he’s been off the grid since we got back. Hope the little gremlin hasn’t gotten into anything serious.”
“Right, fine. With that option out, we’ll just have to stop by a couple friends to see if they can help. But who to see first?” the skater wonders aloud. The merc suddenly snaps his fingers as he flashes a smile, stating how:
“Senator Armstrong! That’s what his name was.”
The very first stop that both Roy and Mally take under this investigation is with the potion witch herself, Serena; who they meet in the Townsville Library. More specifically within the recently uncovered underbelly of the library filled with enchanting books and mystical tomes. Sliding her finely polished nail across the wall of ancient hardback, the witch pulls out a lone book straight from the shelves; all the while telling the two behind her how:
“I seriously can’t thank you two enough for discovering this incredible collection hidden away underneath the library. All the new potion recipes that I’ve gotten from their pages have been one hot seller after another since you two dug it up.” “Ain’t no big deal. Really we just stumbled onto this by complete accident. I just hope the clean up crew removed all the trap set up in here.” the orange skater responds. Right on that mark do they all then here the sound of a magical explosion go off along the side; all of them peeking right over to find one of the library goers having his lower torso replaced with that of a spider, all while scream out in an utter panic. “Ah! Ah! Oh god! Why!?” the poor bastard shouts as a batch of silk spews out from his fresh new abdomen.
“So...What’s this little book stop gotta do with what came bursting out my side?” Roy get back on track with. “During one of my little glazes through this uncovered library, I stumbled across a tome of Mythological Chinese stories. One of them kinda reminds me of your arm in a strange way.”
“Where’s that.” Mally questions. “Think I last saw that Tome along the very back of the right side of the library. It might be the one sitting in the middle of the shelf.” “Kay, gimme a sec here.” the purple merc tells them, casting forth his arm of pitch black out beyond the railing and right across the outlook; stretching straight out to the other side. Slithering through sections does the arm slide past several other library goers, each one of them left astonished as the limb moves past. Skimming along the spines of every single book on the shelf does the merc finally pull out one in particular labeled as “The mythical fables of the ancient east” and withdraws the tome back to his side. “This it?” “Yep. The very same one.” the potion witch confirms. “You know what that story you mentioned says?” Mally asks. “Mm. I’ve olny read about a paragraph or two while on my recipe hunt.”
“That case. Guess we better just crack this thing open and feast on the festering brain food dwelling inside.” the merc goes. “Roy, dial it down for god sake.” his sister tells him as they both head over towards a desk.
Slapping the old book right onto the ancient stone library desk do the two of them get started in the table of context as Serena tells them that:
“Alright you two. I’ll be looking through more of the shelves if you need me.” “Careful of tripwires along the floor.” Mally warns her with as they part. Cracking the tome right open, the two of them immediately begin their search through the table of contents; reading out the titles of numerous legends such as: “The Oni and the flowerpot” “The natural Maiden of white snow” “The myth of the True eye Hawk bow” “The meeting of the Nord and the Imperial Lord”. “Ah...Oh, here might be something, “The tale of the Samurai and the black demon.” the orange young lady grabs her brother’s attention with.
“Long ago in an ancient land, a great and powerful mass of black had descended from the heavens and arose as a powerful shape shifting master of darkness; determined to dominate the land of China and all who dwell within with unspeakable evil power unmatched. Before the mystical land could be swallowed by such unrelenting darkness, the land’s lord sent away his only son and the one katana of evil’s bane out from their homeland so that his heir would escape to one day defeat this powerful and liberate his homeland. Through out every corner of the globe has this young heir hone his skills with many masters as his guide; his abilities and way of the blade growing alongside his age throughout the many years.
After a long 15 years of grueling training, the boy, now a fully fledged samurai, was ready to return home; determined to free his people from the monstrous evil that had scarred the land of the east. Among his return upon a horse of white; the powerful demon stared down upon the Samurai as he had stepped forth to appose him; the monster burning eyes staring down upon the Samurai as he unsheathed the blade of evil’s bane. The battle for not just the Samurai’s homeland, but for the world over had finally begun its finale.
Long and harrowing was their fight, the demon assuming many forms in opposition to the Samurai; who with fleet foot, tore through the monster’s very form that no other mortal could. No matter what form the demon had taken, no matter what trickery or power it had fought back with, the monster of darkness could not stand against the holy weapon of the Samurai; the katana slicing off piece after piece of the demon’s body. In the final moments of the grueling battle did the demon lay helpless before the Samurai; it body scattering to dust when the last blow had been struck. Finally, after decades of suffering had the demon been defeated and the land of the east free from its harrowing evil; the Samurai, reclaiming his kingdom and bringing forth a long awaited age of prosperity and peace.
Yet despite this victory over the demon of evil, its remains are left scattered throughout the world; ever seeking, ever yearning to be whole once more with its very kin. Yet for what reason does it continue to live? To regain control over the world it once sought to rule, or to return from the very stars it once came to be. Only time shall bestow upon us all such an answer.”
Upon finishing this tale of triumph and warning, Mally is left taken aback by all that they have read; sitting back along the side of a stone shelf as she goes:
“My god. Can’t believe that demon just came down and took over China in just a day. If Serena thinks that monster might be related, what’s that even say about what’s attached to your side?...What’s it even say about Alex?” “Come on Mal. You’re taking this way too seriously. You really think this charcoal Spaghetti strand attached to my side is gonna turn me into an unsympathetic horrible tyrant?”
In thinking over this does Mally try to take a few moments to think over her brother’s answer; Roy’s expression souring with each passing second. “For fuck sa-. Fine, if you still on the fence, then how bout we stop over at Hank’s and have him call up Melvin. That boy got a sweet set of demon hands like my arm and the worst he’s ever been was a compact ball of insecurity and anger issues wrapped up on a 14 year old twinkus. And that was even before he got them.”
“Checking up on him might not be a bad idea. Last time we hung out wasn’t exactly a pleasant spelunking trip.” the orange skater agrees.
Along the suburban skies above does a young boy strapped into a decked out wheelchair glide through the clear blue skies; the chair bound boy yipping and cheering with the sort of glee a 10 year old on Christmas would make after seeing all the presents in the living room. Right below this airborne lad does both Mally and Roy finish up speaking to the chairbound pilots cousin; Melvin leaning along the side of Hank’s abode as the orange skater finishes explaining how:
“That’s pretty much how Roy’s new arm came out. Came straight out of his side like an actual chestburster.”
“Shit man. Way I wound up getting my hands ain’t nowhere as gory as that. Worse I got was some broken bones and bruises.” the young man claims. “Think you could go into detail about how ya got them?” the merc request. “Nah, fuck that. I ain’t tellin.”
“Can you at least tell us if you’ve felt anything strange or off since ya gottem. Any physical pains or strange thoughts going through your head.” Mally then asks. “Outside a couple of mildly weird dream. Got nothin going on.” Melvin ultimately concludes. “Huh...good to here at least.”
Its then that their attention is drawn up to the young man gliding in the skies above them, pulling off rolls and loop de loops as his cheering echoes across the neighborhood. “The hell he’s so giddy for.” Roy wonders. “Couple a guys came over the other day and asked him to join in some little club and he’s been flying high since.” Melvin answers. “Who came over?”
“The Vanguard League!” all of them hear he chairbound genius cry out, the three peering over to watch as Hank comes in for a landing; his wheels kicking up a cloud of dirt as he skids to a stop before them all.
“They came over!? That’s incredible, Hank! What position did you land a spot in?” Mally ecstatically questions. “Ya’ll looking at the new head of the Technological Department. Making new gadgets and inventions to help fight crime, save lives, and help people worldwide; all alongside the greatest of young minds this generation has to offer. I can’t wait to get started after the announcement this coming weekend.” “Had a feeling they’d come around to check you out sooner or later. I don’t think they picked a better boy for the job.” Mally congratulates Hank with, the chair bound genius letting out a bright smile. “What about you Melvin, you think about standing alongside your cuz and the other heroes?” the boy then questions. “You shitting me, right? You think you’d catch me being bossed around like that? Hell no.”
“What about you Mal?” “Uh. Leaning on it, but I ain’t too sure which department to join.”
“Hey, no pressure; just good luck with whatever ya choose. Meantime, I better spruce up and polish up my equipment before the weekend announcement comes around. Catch you later.” the chairbound genius bids farewell with as he presses a couple of buttons on his chair; an exhaust along the back firing out and rocketing him right on inside. From listening to several things crash and break from inside, Melvin decides to race right on after while exclaiming:
“Dammit, the hell did we talk about doing that indoors!?”
“Whelp, guess we don’t got anything to worry about. See ya.” Roy claims while in the midst of taking off out into the air. Before the violet angel could ascend too far up into the cloudless skies, the shell of a yo yo wraps itself right around the merc’s very leg; Roy peering down from the string to see Mally ready to bring him right back down. With but a single tug does the skater manage to send the purple merc straight down towards the earth; the angel crashing right down into the grassy backyard in a plume of dirt. “Yeah, were nowhere near done yet. We ain’t closing this case til we figure out what this arm of yours is made of and where it came from.” the orange lass claims. “Agh! That book we read up on said that whatever it was came from space; serious fucking doubt you know anyone else that came from beyond the star.” Roy explains while climbing out from the dirt, soon finding his sister wearing a knowing smile.
Traveling deep within the very heart of the woodlands just outside the city, the two of them step right on inside of a downed space ship; whereupon the violet angel beholds the alien trio that his sister had befriended.
“Hot damn, Mally. Can’t believe you were keepin this little part of the woods all to yourselves and didn’t bother saying a thing to us.” Roy smoothly exclaims. “Figured you might’ve sensed them all out anyway. Surprised you didn’t know until now.” Mally acknowledges. “You kidding. With all the weird shit that goes on in this town already? How you figure I was gonna stumble on this?” “Also thought they might enjoy the privacy and not have every government agent or crackpot conspiracy nutter come knocking at their door and demand to know what sort of part of congress they control or whatever excuse they pull outta their ass.”
“Still, not hard to imagine why you and your teach would want to keep these choice pieces of intergalactic intimates all to themselves; you serious stumbled onto one hell of a galactic goldmine with this set of sweet sweet alien asses. Definitely like to double down on the fish guy and the girl with the eyeliner in an intergalactic seafood platter; maybe finish off with the hooded piece of alien booty as dessert right there. This spread here’s the fucking motherload, and papa Roy here don’t want a piece, he want’s the whole fucking buffet.” the purple angel elaborates aloud, the three growing further upset and creeped out as she continues speaking.
Amidst the merc’s overwhelming horniness does a comically oversized wrench come flying and hits the back of the violet angel’s head; Roy holding the spot he got struck as he violently trembles. “Fucking…”
“While it’s flattering that you primates have at least decent tastes in knowing a fine catch when you see one. I am very aware when the line of thirst starts to cross harassment territory.” Vain assures. “Seriously kid, did you really just stop by just to have this purple prick gawk at us like an overly excited Splartian Hound in heat; ready to thrust its privates into anything that can bother pulsating in view. Cause I thought the fact that were stuck on this damn rock was getting you off enough.” Catastrophe questions. “Actually, we were hoping you three wound help us out with trying to figure out what exactly my bro’s new arm is made of.” the orange skater finally answers. “Really? I thought that human’s just grow their limbs back when one of them’s broken, just rip it right off to have another one come in the following week.” the charming alien fish boy comments. “That is...nowhere near how human biology works. Seriously hope you weren’t planning on testing that.” Mally worries. Right on that very queue does one of the boxes in the room tip over and partially reveal an unconscious man stowed away within; moaning aloud as he attempts to climb out with one of his arms taken away and stitched up wounds. Discovering this, Mally turns her upset glare over to the trio, Cat claiming that:
“Hey, don’t give us any bull. Dumbass just seriously wondered in here.”
“We gave him some amnesics to make him forget.” Tizzy adds. Clutching the barely conscious man by his shoulders does Cat stroll over to the door while dragging the poor guy along the floor; the alien girl tossing the guy straight out into the woods.
“Why you up and figure it was best to come here to try a figure out the hell is your bro’s arm.” Tizzy asks. “Well, one book we read on it mentioned that this stuff wound up coming from the depths of space and was hoping that-”
“Oh yes, I see. Since were not from your planet, that would make us the knowledge keepers of all that occupy alongside the stars. Is that it?” Vain accuses. “I was thinking since your parents were intergalactic conquerors, figured that maybe they’ve seen something like this before during a conquest.” Mally quickly gives context for. “Afraid your shit outta like, neither of our mom’s speak a mere mention of whatever disgusting growth came out of your brother’s side; pretty sure if we did, they’d tell us in the form of a terrifying bedtime story told to make ya piss yourself.” Cat explains. “Indeed. Truly humiliating.” “Vain, didn’t you wind up soaking your entire mattress once?” Tizzy wonders. “That was when we got back from swimming and you know it!”
“Kay here. Doesn’t this ship has some advance tech straight out from the realms of a shitty 90’s cartoon? You guys gotta at least got anything that can tell us what his arm’s made off?” Roy then interjects with. “If this ship didn’t take a crashing nosedive straight down into your planets crap that you call soil, we wouldn’t be talking right now. You really think that they wound up getting anything working in the span of a month since we touched down on this overpopulated rock in the middle of the space boonies?”
“Actually, I just finished getting the Material Analyzer up and running a few days ago. We could try that?” Tizzy then mentions.
“Ugh, fine whatever. The sooner you start, the sooner you leave. Make it quick.”
Somewhere within the ship does Roy have his arm of demonic pure black stuck right in a spherical chamber as numerous lasers and lights scan every single inch of them limb; all the data it collects showing up on a screen outside the chamber that Tizzy carefully observe. From this high tech device, a small beep them sounds off; queuing Tizzy to tell them:
“And the analysis is finished. You can take it out now.” “Holy shit finally. Started getting numb after the last half hour. Stuck my hand up something longer, but that’s a story for another day.” Roy states as he slithers his fresh pitch black arm out of the analysis machine’s inner chamber. “So, whatcha come up with?” the orange skater asks. “Well, there doesn’t seem to be anything else belonging to your brother inside. No bones, veins, blood, nothing. Kinda shocking given how close to unstable it is.”
“Anything else?”
“Well, there’s one detail that popped up that bothered me. The genetic make up of his arm primarily consists of strung together chemicals compounds such as Epinephrine, glutamate, Cortisol, Adrenaline, and slight traces of Serotonin. The stuff in your brains that make you feel angry, sad, and scared.” “Is that seriously... why did a bunch of emotional brain juice burst out from Roy’s side and solidify into a working appendage?”
“Maybe that’s something you should ask him.”
The alien suggesting this, the orange skater turns over to her purple brother to ask of him:
“Roy, what might’ve been going through your head moments before that thing came out of you ?” “Well...ya know how we were fighting that giant wood guardian in that hidden Jurassic land and how Alex got fucking impaled right through the stomach?”
“Yeah. I still remember how I felt when I saw that. But how did that wind up triggering you to grow an arm?”
“When I beheld the site of the little devil on a stick, something flashed before my eyes; an image that I felt burst out from the depths of my soul. Two figures, one stabbing the other through the stomach, one wearing a gleeful smile while the other leaked tears from above its horrified frown; both staring out with their hollow white eyes. That alone reminded me of a site that I kept buried deep down for years; and it all suddenly just came up at once like an explosion of confusion, regret, and rage. The closest I could describe it being like would be his mind of the proverbial traumatic edge; teetering on the cusp of madness.”
Upon hearing the purple merc elaborate on the thoughts going through his head is the entire room left at a complete silence; Mally gazing to her violet brother with a mixture of remorse, pity and regretful guilt. Before the orange girl could give even a little word of comfort to him do all of them hear a sharp whistle cut straight through the quiet; the three peering back towards the door to discover Catastrophe leaning against the doorway. “Now that shit’s a full season of a show right there. Closest thing to entertainment I got since crash down on this pathetic little rock.”
“Cat.” Tizzy lightly snaps out. “Something about my emotional trauma funny to ya?” Roy then questions. “You kidding? It’s like one of those shitty characters with a bad backstory crowbarred in to make idiots think they’re deep. Fucking riot right there.”
Amidsts stepping up against the hooded alien girl, the violet angel’s wings sprout forth as the fingers along his pitch black arm starts to get antsy; going on to trash talk on how:
“Guess being on your mama’s little warship for most of your life, ya never really got to feel what its like to be on the other end of life’s massive jackboot. Never really feeling what its like have shit throw right at ya. The fucked up thoughts going through yer head as the memories of all that ya lost come flooding out and crashing onto your psyche til your heads on the verge of melting from the madness…You wanna know what that sort of self inflicting degradation can feel like?”
“That a threat?” Cat wonders with a confident smirk; both of them stand face to face one another as the two give off an overgrowing sense of rising tension. Right as Roy was in the midst of transforming his new arm, something along his other side takes a gentle hold upon the merc’s other limb and breaches through to him, quelling the building rage within; the purple angel gazing off to the side to discover his little sister staring up to him with the look of “Please don’t do it” in her eyes.
In seeing the desperate plea set in his sisters eyes does the purple merc let out a small sigh as he finally breaks away from the antagonizing alien, marching right past Catastrophe and out to the corridor; the violet angel punching the side of the doorway hard enough to leave a hell of a dent. As Mally takes her leave after her pissed off brother, Tizzy approaches her sister with a hammer and tells her to: “Come on. You’re helping me hammer that dent out.” “Like hell I am. Why the hell should I fix something that our guest broke in his little pissy fit?” “Pretty sure you threw a pretty similar one when vain used your little blanket as a dung disposal cleaner.” “You swore never to bring that up!” the two of them hear their semi aquatic brother shout out to them.
As both brother and sister exit out from the downed spacecraft, the orange lass between them starts to apologize with:
“Roy...I-I’m so sorry. I just can’t believe that I didn’t catch on what was bugging you sooner than later. I-I didn’t realize that you were thinking about what happened at-”
“Mally, chill. Ain’t know way you could’ve known the sort of shit that was going through my head. I get you were just worried. But I’ll be just fine. Kay?”
“Hey! What happened back then effected Tore and I too. You ain’t alone on this...Anything ya wanna talk about, we’re here for ya.” “Hm hm hm...Thank’s Mal.” Roy returns with, a heartwarming smile etched across the merc’s face. “No prob...So...You thinkin about headin home?”
“Nah. Still got some stuff to take care of. I’ll be home a little later.”
“Kay. Just don’t get into too much trouble.”
Warning her brother of this does the orange skater swiftly don her skating gear and take off out into the woods; Roy in turn sprouting forth his angelic black wings and taking off into the orange twilight skies.
Among his glide above the nearly thick woodlands, Roy flies back out towards the city of Townsville with the setting sun glistening its twilight gaze at his back; his smile starting to dissipate the farther he flies. “You’ve been awfully quiet about all this.” he suddenly says aloud to break the silence. Out from the depths of his mind does a woman’s voice echo through the merc’s head; responding in kind to him with:
“What do you mean by that?”
“Hera, you usually just chime in in the middle of all this to give some sort of support or to stop me from doing something arguably reprehensible. What’s the deal this time?”
“Roy, have you ever thought a goddess such as I has other duties and responsibilities to tend to then communing with the only mortal I can converse with?”
“...You hiding something aren’t ya?”
“What!? Preposterous! What would urge you to accuse me of something like that?”
“Even with only having clocked in about 16 and a half years in this fucked up game some of us have to call life; I’ve been around long enough to see the warming signs of someone having a long list of secrets hidden somewhere in the bunkers of their head. And a goddess like you without a hell of a doubt’s gotta have some stowed away that vault ya call a head. With what’s on me having been once part of a mighty monster that nearly overtook the world; you think that keeping an eye on even a piece of it would warrant obligation. But Guess not, guess we’ll just blind move along through life; leaving me ignorant of what a threat this could possibly grow into until its far too late and lives are lost. But hey, what’s it with mortals wanting to question what may become of them midst affairs which affect their world, right?”
“Roy, believe me when I say I can’t bring myself to simply tell you with my own words. But if you really wish for the truth and what your arm has to do with me; then I can point you in the right direction.” the goddess in his head assures. “Eh, fair enough. Lead the way.”
The night upon Townsville had come to blanket the city in a think darkness, with nothing but the shadows to accompany the roaming night owls. Atop the mayor building, a dark winged figure hovers down to the very top of its dome rooftop; where upon its arm transforms into a sharp blade that cuts right through its very stone. Cutting a piece right off the roof, the figure lifts the piece right off and slips right on inside.
Along the inside the main office is the door unlocked when a substance of black fills the hole and turns the lock; letting the door creak open and letting the figure walk right in. Within does the figure behold the usual fittings of a mayoral office; books, chairs, desk, computer, bowl of mints, nothing out of the ordinary. And nothing to stop the intruder from venturing over to the desktop and taking a seat behind the screen. With the press of a button does the entire monitor let out an incredible bright light; Roy shielding his site from the intense glow as his eyes adjust to the glow, peeking between his fingers to behold his first obstacle. The password. Rather than blindly attempting to guess the password locking the desktop, the purple merc instead shoves his hand right into his pants pocket and pulls out what appears to be a lone thumb drive; plugging the drive right in and watching the password box fill with numerous letters and numbers until coming to the right code. As the desktop starts to load in, Roy is met with a site that honest to god just baffles him to no end. Is...is this seriously running on Windows 7? That’s 2010’s old. This a government owned desktop! Why the fuck haven’t they updated it yet for security!? Everytime on one of these government owned consoles, they always just have the most out dated Operating systems. One of the computers in the France federal agent building was running on Windows XP for shit sake!? Why!? It doesn’t make any god damn-...Gah! Whatever, not the problem here.
Getting over that strange conundrum, Roy takes the mouse and clicks right into the file explorer, where he starts his search right into the documents. See here...Billing info, Construction plans, Federal investigation, Homoerotic Fanfiction...Incident report. Clicking onto this folder is the purple merc astonished to discover the list of city incidents a literal mile long, the square of the scroll bar being absolutely tiny. Hmm...Dino monster attack, Fire monster attack, slime monster attack, Alien monster attack. Shit, alotta monster attacks here; practically makes up most of the list. Lets try sorting by date. Rearranging the reports by the date they had been documented, one title in particular catches the merc’s attention. “The lady of pink against the Cerberus. 1984” Interesting...Let’s have ourselves a peek here. Clicking right on this title, the document soon loads and present its very text through a writing application, starting his read on the incident beginning with:
“A terrible storm bellows from the east as horrible fires burn through Townsville, centers and businesses crumbling at the seems as a gigantic, dark three headed beast topples everything over in its rampage. Police and military efforts seemed ineffective as fired ammunition seemed to be devoured under the horrible cerberus’s tar like hide. Despite efforts to evacuate, few people escapes from the Chaos as dozens were left injured or burned; or a rather cruel mix of both. As hope for the city had waned to its worst, a female figure donning a heavenly pink glow had flown out from the roaring flames to face the terrible beast; her long blonde hair flowing in the wind. The best this report could describe the ensuing battle was of gods straight from tales of greek mythology; a recreation of the gods against the titans playing out before mortal eyes. With the godly woman of bright pink keeping the terrible beast of black at bay, officials were able to effectively evacuate civilians more effectively.
From what military that stayed behind described, the woman in pink had battled the vicious beast of dark with energy of bright light; her conjured weapons seemingly damaging the monster than any of our conventional weapons could only hope to do. Yet despite the warriors best efforts to defeat this great evil that had descended down upon the city, beast had ultimately worn down the woman midst hours of fighting; the horrible monster in the end devouring the woman in but a single gulp. All hope had seemed utterly crushed as the black demon had cackled upon its very victory; soon turning its burning eyes to the units that had stayed behind. All three of its heads bored a sinister smile as it crawled its way out towards the military unit; some of them fleeing from the seems on its approach while other’s stood their ground, knowing full well there was little they could do to escape from its wrath. Just as the three headed beast was on the verge of striking down the unit, the bowels of its stomach had began to glow a light of faint pink; a glow that quickly began to grow larger and brighter every passing second. In a matter of seconds did this very light explode in a flash of bright pink; blinding every single soldier that stood before the beast of darkness. Once the overwhelming glow had finally dimmed, the unit peered back to find the Cerberus that had terrorized the city was now but in pieces; all with no sign of the brave woman in bright pink light nowhere seen among the remains.
When the cleanup crew had arrived on the seen, most of the remains of the beast had been successfully picked up and stored away from researching purposes; those on the scene had described each piece of the monster as alive, pulsating and wriggling like worms plucked out from the soil. Other’s had witnessed some parts of the monster’s remains slipping away into the night and had attempted to contain every piece before they could escape; while most of the creatures remains had been successfully stowed away in containment, staff have admitted that few pieces had escaped into the unknown. What those pieces of the terrible beast had fled to or what they plan to do is as of yet unknown; something of which may never be realized, else that night may just be only the beginning.”
Its after having read every single paragraph of this report does Roy slump down into the office chair; processing every single detail that he had just read. “Can’t believe it…You gave up living alongside your family just so they could have a future.” Roy awe’s aloud.
“Indeed. And it was with that very sacrifice that I had been chosen to become a goddess.” Its in the midst of this realization that a small, uneasy chuckle starts to escape from him as he leans forward onto the mayor’s desk, Hera wondering in worry:
“Roy?...What’s wrong?” “What’s it worth becoming a god if it meant you couldn’t hold the people you love in your arms anymore; to not longer cherish their very presence as they take in yours? Why not just move on? Why not end it? Suppose those were your final moments inside that thing, weren’t they?” “Roy, when I was offered the position of a goddess. I was told it would involve ensuring the balance of the magical through the universe. Doing such, I could ensure those she left behind had a chance to live for themselves. It has not been easy since then...everyday, I wish to speak them once more, to hold my precious daughter and grandchildren in her arms.”
With all that he had discovered of the very beast that his new arm was once a part of, the violet angel gazes into the dark abyss held within the palm of his hand. “What do ya want done with it?”
“Pardon?” Hera questions. “Its thanks to the monster this arm came from that ya can’t go back to her family; to embrace the ones you loves in you hands. Just knowing that a piece of it is attached to the only person of this world you can converse with must piss you off to no end. Wanting to make sure what happened that night doesn’t befall anyone else.” “I assure to you Roy, that what happened to me that night was something I had decided for myself. I had chosen to give up my life so that others could live. But to make that choice for someone else...it something she could never bring myself to do. Whatever you decide, I’ll stand with you on it.” “No matter where it had came from, this damn thing had taken all the grief and anger that had wielded inside me and had given it a form; but only under my rage has it appeared and obeyed. With what Tore said he could do with life. I wonder if this is what I can do with what’s here?” “And is that what you wish out of it?” the goddess questions. Its in being asked this does the merc’s arm of pitch black clutch into a tight fist, the angel’s uncertain glare transforming into a determined grin. “That’s what it should be.”
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Thought that a little downtime would be appropriate here after the last chapter. Not a lot going on here beside a quick piece of lore and chemistry between characters. Though I purposely set this Chapter up as a repeat of the one where Roy was coping with the loss of his arm, thought it'd be thematically appropriate here.
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The Altar is Calling| Arthur/Reader | pt.2
notes: you guys I think will get mad at me for this one lmao
word count:2569
summary: you and Arthur celebrate on your wedding night
“So, tell me about this would-be fiancé of yers, sugar,” Arthur said, his tone between playful and growling. You walked side by side in the autumnal forest on the way back to your house, hand in hand, and he swung your connected arms back and forth in amusement. He was clearly slowing himself down so you could keep pace with his longer strides. He had offered to summon forth some nightmarish steed for you both to ride, but you declined.
Strange as you were, you were uninterested in theatrics of that caliber.
“He’s. Uh, male. And has a face and some hair.” Arthur scoffed out a quick laugh.
“Ain’t nothin special, I’m guessin’? Or are you just tryna spare an old devil’s feelings?” Better yet, are you tryin’ to protect this sonuvabitch from me? “That’s awful sweet of you, buttercup, but I promise you I’ve heard worse.” Your face is unreadable, which is equal parts intriguing, irritating, and nerve wracking for Arthur. Really, you’re just paying attention to the leaves that crunch beneath your heels. You make it a game to try and step on the ones that look the crunchiest. You’re very good at it. Having to think of conversation to make, or recalling any of the identifying characteristics of your fiancé, is making you worse. Arthur, who is easily at least seven feet of demon beef, leans down to be at your eye level.
“Or maybe… you love him?” Arthur asks, eagerly awaiting the answer which could destroy him. Crush his blackened heart, shatter his damned soul like a crystal chandelier suspended by a rope in the crossfire of a heated sword fight. You stop walking and twitch your nose bizarrely.
“Chu!” You sneeze, rubbing your nose with a sleeve, still sniffling. Arthur pauses awkwardly, unable to say ‘bless you’.
“No, nothing like that. He’s nice enough I guess, but not at all interesting, you understand. I’m sure marriage to him would have been almost infuriatingly tolerable.” Arthur has only known you for a few hours, but he can already see why someone completely ordinary would bore you to tears. This relaxes him somewhat, because he isn’t boring... Is he?
A question begins to bud on the tip of your tongue when your house comes into view at last. Arthur slides his hand beneath your chin and tips your head up, his eyes roaming over your features in adoration as his sighs. This kiss he plants on your lips is soft, gentle, and almost overwhelmingly warm. Like the tender underbelly of some great beast, the kiss implies near fatal vulnerability just beneath the surface. So of course you kiss back. He parts from you with a smile behind his eyes, and calls to you in a low whisper. You’ve never heard your name spoken so kindly.
“Prepare yourself, sweet thing. I’ll be back come midnight to collect you for our wedding night.”
—————
Rehearsal was boring, but you were distracted, much to the displeasure of your parents and the staff. What did Arthur mean? Did he just want to hit it and quit it, or was this like, it? Were you going to pack your bags and move to hell? Not the most unappealing idea, given the current circumstances, you just would like to be more well informed.
Your rehearsal is concluded with a lot of aggravated sighing from everyone but your fiancé, who has his patient gaze affixed to you still. Despite everything, he kisses your hand innocently and bids you goodnight. You almost felt bad about being unfaithful to him, but was there really any faithfulness to begin with, when you didn’t feel much of anything for him? His parents would just find another girl anyways, one probably much more sensible and agreeable and normal.
After dinner and a hot bath, you retire to your room and change into your nightgown, which you’ve never really considered sexy, but you were on rather short notice and you weren’t sure what exactly to be preparing for. You aren’t really sure why you’re even thinking of this, as if what happened today wasn’t just a delusion of your hopeful romantic mind. Wouldn’t it be nice, though?
Being all warm from the bath, and your stomach full from dinner, you can feel yourself getting sleepy, and the clock is still a ways from midnight. Maybe if you sleep, you’ll dream of Arthur. Then again, when you wake up, maybe you won’t remember any of it.
————
A clawed finger traces over your cheek lightly, trailing down to toy with the modest collar of your nightgown and the little ribbon bow that adorns it. You really are such a darling thing. Innocent, sweet. Everything Arthur couldn’t be. Everything he’d been told he could never have.
Your eyes begin to open, and your gaze followed up the demon’s arm and shoulder, until your eyes meet his. His eyes are predatory and dark, but only as a thin veneer over his fears of absolute rejection. You were bound to him now, yes, but you weren’t mind controlled. He wouldn’t do a thing like that, no matter how lonely he got.
“When did you get here? In my room, that is.” You grasped his hand gently and brought it back up to your cheek. It was super toasty and nice. Arthur reveled in the contact and the pleased look on your face.
“This ain’t yer room, sweetness. We’re in my domain. Jus’ made it look like yer room so you’d feel comfortable,” he uttered, almost like he didn’t want you to hear it, in case you’d be mad. Upon closer inspection, the rosary that was kept hung next to your door was absent. It made sense that he wouldn’t recreate that detail.
“Is this my home now, too?” You asked.
“Only if you want it to be. I could return you to the world above if you wanted, too,” he sighed. “But you’d never be free of me. Not forever.” You rub your thumb thoughtfully, patiently along the underside of Arthur’s wrist as you childishly cling to his arm. He can’t tell if your comfort is out of affection, pity, or something else. But he knows what he wants for it to be.
The demon sits down on the bed, seemingly bigger than your bed at home, and you sit up to be level with him. Your nightgown is caught beneath you, pulling some of the fabric taut and flush against the swell of your breasts. Unintentional or not, it doesn’t go unnoticed.
You look up and see a sudden intensity in Arthur’s eyes, accompanied by an otherworldly glow. You felt compelled to ask your unsaid question from earlier.
“Why was your altar in the woods, waiting for someone like me?” He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, as if attempting to summon emotional strength. He wants this to work. He wants you to know all of him, and for him to know all of you. And this is as good a start as any.
A long time ago, I was in love with a human woman, and she was in love with me, or so I like to believe. Despite how different we were, and the worlds we came from, we were in love. So we chose our favorite spot in the woods for a little ceremony, a ritual that would tie us together forever. I said my vows, but when it came to be her turn she wouldn’t look me in the eyes. I should have seen it coming from miles away, but I ignored the signs. I just wanted to be happy with someone.
She knew that I would not and could not join her in the mortal realm and give her the life she wanted. She said that it didn’t bother her, that she still loved me, but I don’t think it ever stopped weighing on her mind. She left me at that altar. Donned a silver rosary so that any contact I tried to make would burn me. I still have the scars from trying. In the end, she decided we were too different after all.
Arthur waited for something. Pity, disgust, admonishment, anything. But all he felt was the gentle and smooth flesh of your hand, almost cool against his warm skin, cupping his cheek and going up to tangle in his hair and stroke one of your thumbs over his blackened horns. How you knew that would comfort him was a mystery.
————-
Your scent engulfs him as he buries his face into your hair, you smell wet and wild and woodsy, like spices and potpourri alongside the scent of a rotted log turned over, one with an entire ecosystem of newts and worms and beetles subsisting on fresh, rich soil. You smell of the death that sustains life, and it endears you to the demon all the more. In you he finds the sense of love impending— of a love that hasn’t yet bloomed, but even so he can imagine it clearly. It’s intoxicating and tear-jerking.
He looks at you with softness undefined when he asks:
“This—what’s between us. Do you feel it too?” His skin burns pleasantly beneath your palms. “I feel it— I feel it so goddamn much I could die!” He doesn’t have to explain what he means. It’s an all encompassing and infinite fire between you two. One that burns with potential and promise, like your life to this point has been waiting, and your real life has just begun. Though it may be dangerous, you can’t refuse it.
“I feel it, Arthur. I do.” The way you utter his name like you’re coming off of a high note, like it’s been practiced in your head, shoots straight to his loins. There’s a growing urgency in your voice, and he feels his body screaming for him to respond to your needs, regardless of whether or not you know of them. The adoration in his eyes betrays the depravity he feels.
His hands are large, warm, and calloused. They cup your cheeks as Arthur leans his entire body into you and kisses you like he’s trying to devour you. His hands trail down to the swell of your throat, the curve of your waist, the meat of your thighs, where he grips and pulls you into his lap unapologetically. Your quiet and restrained mewls are going to be the death of him. He grits out your name.
“Baby. Angel. Tell me you want this. Tell me that and I’ll be yours.”
“Arthur, I want this. I want you.” The moment you finish he pushes his mouth against yours so hard you can almost hear your teeth click together. His mouth is raw on yours, with animalistic amounts of teeth and tongue, with passion. You feel a few hot, wayward tears against your cheeks, and you know you’re not the one crying.
The demon parts, looking at you for approval as he places his hands at the hem of your nightgown, pulling it up over your head when you nod. Your underthings are not removed with the same grace, as they’re sliced apart by the delicate work of his claws. There’s a ravenous fury in him, but he pauses to appreciate every curve and mark and pocket of fat on your innocent body, nervousness radiates off of you in waves while you tremble under the heavy weight of his gaze, clearly trying to stay brave and keep your eyes on him.
“You ever been intimate with a man before, darlin’?”
“No. I’ve only ever been kissed--”
“By who?” He blurts out, unable to contain his budding jealousy.
“Just friends. Playmates when I was young, but I fear I know just about as much now as I did then,” you trail off, averting your eyes as you submit to embarrassment. Arthur’s fingers delicately cup your chin and guide your gaze back to him.
“A virgin bride, then, how cute,” he croons, a gleam of something sadistic in his eye, but gone in an instant. “I’ll take care o’ you, promise. You’ll never know pain from me unless you wish for it.” He presses his forehead to yours, gently.
“My wife. My beautiful, sweet, strange little wife…”
The word strange had never sounded so lovely to you. It had, for as long as you could remember, made you unmarriageable and discomforting to others of your class. It was something that people called you behind your back with quieted giggles.
But coming from Arthur, it made you feel special. Like it was something wonderful no one else could have.
Your awareness returns when one of his hands finds the curve of your breast, toying with one of your nipples while he gently bites and sucks the other. His hand travels further, reaching your ass and grabbing, pulling you even closer-- right up against the bulge under the simple cloth he wears. You get your first taste of delicious friction as he begins rutting against you fervently. He thumbs your clit while he latches onto your throat, smiling at every choked moan and breath you release at the new sensation.
You soon find yourself laid gently on your back, the curtains of the canopy on “your” bed closing, much of the light going with it, but Arthur's eyes and patches of his warmest skin, like his palms and across his nose, have a faint light about them, as well as beneath the cracks of his horns.
______________
Arthur grips your thighs and guides you to wrap your legs around him as he leans forward and over you. There’s an intensity behind his eyes that’s frightening, and yet you can’t look away. His hand comes back to your cheek, and everything stops.
“What do you want?” you’re not sure what he means. The way he says it makes it seem so much deeper than just permission for sex. Tears form at his eyes once more, and they drip onto your cheeks.
“I’ll be anything for you. Just say what you want, and that’s what I’ll be.”
An idea strikes you. A thought that made your eyes widen enough for Arthur to pause and worry. Your palm comes up to his cheek and you can feel his hot tears run down your arm. The mortification— the scathing and paralyzing fear of rejection has the demon choking down a sob. That rejection seems imminent and inevitable, with the pitiful display he thinks he’s cultivated. Who would want this? A broken down hell creature, battered and torn away from all that is strong and all that is beautiful. You would never—
“You don’t have to be ready for this. I will still have you. I will still want to be here. Relationships aren’t based in the realization of fantasy—,” you move your hands down his body to his waist, where you gently guide him from atop you to lay on his side, face to face with you.
“This is not a play, you have no part to fulfill. You don’t have to be anyone or anything but you.”
He hates for you to see him this way, but he would feel even more pitiable and ashamed turning away from you. You scooch closer, wrapping your arms around him and pressing light kisses to his face.
Sobs turn to full on wails, and yet you don’t let him out of your loving hold.
#rdr2#rdr2 x reader#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption 2 x reader#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#writing#drabble#demon au#au#arranged marriage au
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King Falls AM Episode Twenty: Referencing Aladdin Don’t Make It Right
King Falls AM Transcript
Episode 20: Referencing Aladdin Don’t Make It Right
Run time: 22:17
First Aired: Feb 15, 2016
Summary: Sammy & Ben get a quick update on the little ones off Route 72 and learn live on-air that not everyone had a great evening on the night of the Valentine’s Day Dance.
(For a list of characters and references from this episode see the end of this post)
[King Falls AM theme plays]
Troy: Hey folks, if you or anyone you know has any information on these hybrid werewolf slash human baby thingamagigs-
Sammy Stevens: Is that a technical term, Troy?
Ben Arnold: Can you please let Troy finish, Sammy, this is important!
Troy: Heh, thanks, little buddy.
Ben: Go on, Troy.
Troy: Well if you see those little beasts or have information on them you just got to let us know. Don’t harbor them, they could have the rabies and or the colic. And please don’t try to adopt while it’s in its human form, cause that ain’t gonna end up well. Just use your common sense and be safe.
Sammy: Thanks for calling in officially with police business and alerting the public to the issue.
Ben: Yeah, nice hearing from you on the job, Troy.
Troy: Whilst I’m still on official police biz, I’d like to make one more little statement if I could, fellas.
Ben: Dude, of course! The floor is yours!
Troy: Well the sheriff is a real foul mood regarding these hybrid wolf babies and what have you just running amok, and he wants to make it completely, perfectly, crystal clear that if anyone should have these animals or any other illegal animals in the city limits of King Falls, they will be apprehended and exterminated on site with extreme force of malice. King Falls is a zero tolerance town for any illegal animals of any kind, up to and including wolf-human hybrids.
Ben: So… uh (clears throat) you’re saying that anyone listening that may have access to a cute and cuddly but illegal animal should do… what?
Troy: Now I’m not talking to no one in particular, I mean this isn’t a warning, it’s just a fact. Sheriff Gunderson is making it a personal project to bring down any and all animals that shouldn’t be in town.
Sammy: But cats are fine, is that right, Troy?
Troy: No doubt about that. Ain’t nobody gonna get any cats while I’m patrolling the streets, friends.
Sammy: There you have it, folks. If you or anyone you know has any information on the werewolf puppies last heard from around Route 72 or any other illegal animals not allowed in the city, please contact the sheriff’s department at once.
Ben: (sounding strained) Thanks for the info, Troy.
Troy: All you listeners, you stay safe out there, alright?
Sammy: Thanks, Troy. We’ll talk to you soon, sir.
Troy: Roger that, Sammy.
[The sound of a phone hanging up]
Ben: (clearing throat) Well… that’s good information there, huh?
Sammy: Are you okay, Ben?
Ben: Yeah! You know, I’m just… I’m not a fan of the idea that Gunderson is sending out gangs of thugs to dispatch animals, man! Aren’t there real issues for law enforcement in this town? Last week, I saw old lady Turner jaywalking in front of the grocery store.
Sammy: So you’d rather Gunderson take down the organized jaywalking underbelly of King Falls?
Ben: No, I actually helped her cross the street, but the point is that this werewolf issue seems like an animal control issue! Let Ralf Harkins take care of this! Why are the police even involved, man?
Sammy: Your guess is as good as mine. Moving forward-
Ben: Yeah! Yeah, uh, moving forward we’ve got about thirty minutes of open calls lined up before acclaimed ebook author Kirk Sycamore- don’t judge this, Sammy- will be joining us to talk about his new book Dead Tom Turkey: The Perils of Uncooked Poultry.
Sammy: I’m sorry, what now?
Ben: I mean… it’s a thing. Undercooked anything can’t be good, right?
Sammy: I would assume, but seemingly that one sentence just covered everything you need to know. Cook it longer.
Ben: Then it might get dry. I don’t know man! Don’t look at me like that! Merv emailed and asked to book this guy. His book topped Beauregard’s King of King Falls, it’s got to be worth something, right?
Sammy: The perils of uncooked poultry.
Ben: In thirty minutes.
Sammy: I don’t know if I can hold this excitement in for thirty minutes, Ben. You must be bursting at the seams! Surely you’ve waited your entire journalistic career to talk about under-broiled birds.
Ben: Uh, if it makes this any better, apparently this is a novel, not an instructional guide.
Sammy: (outraged) That actually makes it worse! This is a fictional piece of work?!
Ben: Merv emailed this to us, Sammy.
Sammy: Listeners, please immediately stop what you’ve got going on and mark this down: I’m going to do my damndest to get you the info on Merv’s book of the month club. I’m on your side and I am fighting for you.
Ben: Merv, if you are listening, I do not need to be cc-ed on the email you are penning.
Sammy: (laughs) You heard it folks, that’s coming up quickly, but until then we are taking your calls, King Falls. What would you like to talk about this evening, Ben?
Ben: Whatever’s clever.
Sammy: Talking about whatever’s on your minds before what is sure to be a Pulitzer winning interview.
Ben: It’ll be good- you’re making fun- but it’ll be good.
Sammy: How could it not be? You heard our story, King Falls, now let’s hear yours.
Ben: Give us a call at the station- 424-279-3858, or hit us up at the tweet machine!
Sammy: That’s @ kingfallsam and @ kingfallssammy respectively. Line seven you are on the air with King Falls AM.
Pete Meyers: You’re saying to yourself: I don’t think Pete Meyers would listen to a show of this terrible quality, as handsome and as smart as he is. He’s probably watching Big Bang Theory or something.
Sammy: That is exactly what I was thinking, Pete.
Ben: Word for word, almost.
Pete: Look, I don’t like talking to the two of you either.
Ben: Yet you continue to call! And listen! And show up at events!
Pete: Ben if you don’t drop a little bass out of your voice I will roundhouse you right in the gullet the next time I see you. You hear me? I will skullf-(beep) your mom.
Ben: So now you’re threatening me? Do you hear this Sammy?
Sammy: (annoyed) Just hang up.
Pete: (stammering) Whoa, wait, wait, alright? You know, I’m sorry. I’m a little emotional right now… I would never intentionally try to scuff up my lugs on your face, Ben. I apologize.
Sammy: I don’t think that-
Ben: What’s the matter? Got a vampire not appreciating the hedge art you’ve been clipping into the bushes?
Pete: Well it’s kind of about him- did you say vampire?
Ben: (triumphantly) Knew it! Man, just fess up and tell everyone that your boss is a vamp!
Pete: Ben Arnold, I just bought domain to your name. And you know what? I’m going to fill up all the pages with babies and donkeys. What’s the world going to think of you? Some weirdo guy, making an internet site about babies and donkeys? Yeah, that’s right-
Ben: (all riled up) Oh yeah? Ooooooh, Pete! Why don’t you come down here, look me in the eyes, when you’re saying this huh? Huh?!
Sammy: Guys.
Ben: Meanie!
Sammy: Guys! That’s enough. Pete, state your problem or move along.
Pete: Alright, fine. I messed up big time. Worse than the time I dressed up as Edward Scissorhands for Halloween and ruined Mr. B’s hedges. Apparently I pushed a button or didn’t-really-push-a-button on a fancy thing… that’s beside the point. What I really want to know is- did you guys hear something funny on your station a week or two back?
Ben: Um, um, I’m hearing something stupid right now but I don’t know if that’s-
Pete: Come on, Ben! Be serious. I take you seriously- I almost respect you! Now, I heard a little something like maybe you guys got hijacked or something like that and I just wanted to know… you know, what’s up.
Ben: This again?
Sammy: Wait, Ben, we’ve heard this a few times actually. The shotgun guy said it, we’ve had a number of tweets about it. We don’t know anything about this but apparently another feed cut into ours about a month or so ago.
Pete: Oh sh-(beep).
Ben: Watch your language, Pete.
Pete: Watch your… face, Ben.
Ben: Wait, what the hell are you and Beauregard up to?
Pete: None of your damn business.
Beauregard: (from the background of Pete’s call) Yard boy, what are you doing in this chamber without supervision?
Pete: Uhhhhhhh what? Uh, Mr. B, uh nothing!
Beauregard: Don’t act like an ignoramus around the transmorgrifier.
[There are metallic clanks and scrapes in the background and the sound of metal pipes moving around. A whirring humming sound begins like a machine turning on which grows steadily louder]
Sammy: What the hell is going on over there? Pete?
Pete: You made me mess up again you butt smackers.
Beauregard: Don’t just stand there all slack-jawed and drooling. Turn it off this instant. Celestia!
[The whirring cuts off and there is the sound of a call ending]
Ben: What the hell?
Sammy: Well, folks, this is a first for me that I believe an on air failed attempted felony will lead us right into break.
[Cheerful music starts as a commercial begins]
Ernie: Hey there! Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books ain’t your normal bookshop. Maybe you’re asking yourself: Ernie, whatever do you mean? What I mean is that Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books is more than just a hipster reading book nook. We don’t carry none of those cheap-ass paperback books or harlequin novels here, plus you sure as hell ain’t gonna find nothing to read on your I-pad kindle whositswhatsits. For what I understand it’s only first edition leather bound books and (???) up in this joint. Maybe you’re thinking you need to gussy up your place to impress some broad or you have a real need to make people think you got a bigger vocabulary than some Johnny come lately. Either way, Ernie’s got you covered. That’s a book joke! Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books- we got fancy books! F-(beep) you, pay me.
[King Falls AM rock music plays then fades out as the commercial break ends]
Sammy: Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books? There’s two of these stores here? I’ve never even heard of one of them until Rich McGuff! I don’t know what’s more surprising, Ernie’s entrepreneurial rise in the community or him almost making me forget what happened before the break…
Ben: I’m literally afraid to comment one way or another on this.
Sammy: (amused) He is an intimidating specimen.
Ben: (carefully and slowly) If he… likes to hear that, then, yes, you are right. If not, please don’t slander that gigantic human!
Sammy: Ha, no slander intended. We’re taking calls and counting down the seconds before we get a riveting interview with the man who some call the Dan Brown of bird related mysteries.
Ben: Wow, they say that?
Sammy: No, they don’t! (laughs) The phone lines are still lit up, let’s take some calls.
Ben: Good evening, you’re live on King Falls AM.
Greg Frickard: (smugly) Well look who decided to pick up the phone.
Ben: (quickly) Um, let’s take another-
Greg: Hey, Sammy! I’ve got a topic of discussion. Let’s talk about how that co-host of yours is just gonna sit there all quiet and not even mention the fiasco he caused earlier this week at Granny Frickards!
Sammy: Greg? Is everything okay?
Greg: Oh, it’s not okay, Sammy. That- pardon my French- moron, that he would even-
[the sound of a call ending]
Ben: Whoops!
Sammy: Ha!
Ben: Line five you are on with Sammy and Ben!
Sammy: Wow, it looks like you learned a thing or two from Chet, I see.
Ben: Don’t know what you’re talking about!
Caller: Hello?
Sammy: So what happened at Frickard’s?
Caller: Are you talking to me?
Ben: Nothing happened to… let’s just-
Sammy: Not only are you my broadcast partner, I thought we were friends!
Ben: Hey! We are friends! I just didn’t think to tell you that I happened to have dinner at Frickard’s earlier in the week.
Caller: Hellooo?
Sammy: Uh huh. This wouldn’t happen to be the same night Emily was on a business meeting with Greg, would it?
Ben: I really don’t recall but it might have been… that’s a good question.
Sammy: You don’t recall going to your least favorite restaurant in town, which you never eat at, on the night of the King Falls Valentines Day Dance where your main squeeze-
Ben: Watch it.
Sammy: Where the girl you pine for-
Ben: Watch it!
Sammy: Where Emily Potter-
Ben: Thanks.
Sammy: Happened to be roped into a business meeting with Greg Frickard.
Ben: My mortal enemy.
Sammy: Paid sponsor of King Falls AM.
Ben: Whatever.
Sammy: You don’t recall if that’s the night you dined at Granny Frickard’s?
Ben: Ehhhh it’s not really ringing any bells!
Sammy: Maybe we should call Emily.
Ben: Don’t do that!
Sammy: Things coming back to you now?
Ben: Did- ugh… can I fill you in at break and not on the air?
Sammy: You’d better! You know, I’m a little sore that you didn’t tell me to begin with! And this was days ago!
Ben: I’m sorry, man, it’s just it’s not the best story. Believe me.
Caller: Hello? Can we talk now?
Sammy and Ben: No!
[The sound of a call ending]
Sammy: The turkey guy is not sounding so bad right now.
Ben: Ha, why don’t we try… lucky line one, you’re on King Falls AM.
Greg: Hey Ben Arrrnold! Why don’t you tell the whole friggin town about you showing your butt and ruining my business meeting with Emily Potter!
Ben: Greg, I really don’t wanna get into this.
Greg: Ohh, you can’t talk in front of Sammy and the whole town- what’s the matter? Frog got your tongue?
Ben: That's not a saying.
Greg: You sure didn’t have a problem causing a ruckus at the restaurant! In front of Granny no less!
Ben: Can we take another call, Sammy?
Sammy: Is this true, Ben?
Greg: You can’t deny it, Ben Arnold! I’ve got it on camera from multiple angles! You are a heathen.
Ben: Why do you have me making a scene on camera?
Sammy: Multiple angles?
Greg: I’d like to say it’s just the security cameras… but, if you must know, I hid a few cameras around the Froggery for my big night.
Sammy: You call a business meeting your big night?
Greg: With Emily Potter I absolutely do! She is the most beautiful creature in King Falls!
Ben: So you admit that it was a date?
Greg: It was a business meeting with a gorgeous woman! Take it as you will!
Ben: You’re so creepy! God!
Greg: Oh, so it’s creepy. Wanting your gramma and your future children to see the moment their future mother and I fell in love? Recorded for prosperity forever. Probably. Classily edited to voice a man and everything.
Ben: Yeah! It’s creepy!
Greg: (singing) I’ll make love to you! Like you want me to, oh baby hold me tight I will love you all through the night…
Sammy: That is really creepy, Greg.
Greg: You’re just a heathen. You don’t know what love is. What do you know? Tell them what you did, Ben!
Ben: I’m not getting into this on the air, Greg. Let’s just-
Greg: I am a paying sponsor of this show, Ben Arnold! Fess up, right now!
Ben: What are you gonna do, Greg?
Greg: So help me I’m gonna ask Granny- real nice- to pull your sponsorship money!
Sammy: Greg... are you crying?
Greg: (in a high pitched voice) No...
Ben: Hmm, so you’re threatening the show over a personal issue?
Sammy: Greg, we appreciate what you and Granny do for the show and the station-
Greg: I’m glad to see one of you does.
Sammy: But I’m not about to let you threaten taking money away from the station to pressure Ben into talking about something he doesn’t want to. Do what you got to do.
Greg: Ha! Don’t think that I won’t wake up Granny right now!
Ben: You want to talk about this on air, Frickard?
Greg: Tell the people what you did. Just tell them!
Ben: Ugh, okay. So, I made a reservation for myself at the King Falls best f-(beep)-ing Froggery the same night as your video taped date with Emily.
Greg: Keep going.
Ben: Jack-In-The-Box-Jesus, this is ridiculous. Sammy, I made a reservation and I made a scene! The end.
Greg: Details, heathen!
Sammy: Details would be nice here, Ben.
Ben: So, uh, (clears throat) I got there right as Emily was sitting down.
Greg: At a table right next to ours! He requested it!
Ben: That is also true.
Sammy: Ah.
Ben: And that’s that! I watched Greg lose his mind. Nature took its course.
Greg: He ordered every single flambé frog special on the menu.
Ben: Yeah? So?
Greg: Everybody who’s anybody knows that that’s the most romantic frog dish in the world! And you cleaned us out!
Ben: So what? You don’t need romance on a business meeting!
Greg: You ordered twenty of those things just for you!
Ben: And I paid for twenty! What’s your point?
Greg: My point? You didn’t even eat them! You brought in Chipotle!
Ben: Yeah, man! Cause frogs are gross!
Greg: You… you’re gross!
Ben: Oh yeah?
Greg: Yeah. You’re gross! A gross heathen and I… I hate you! I hate you! Ha! I said it. I hate you.
Sammy: Guys…
Ben: I’ll do you one better- I never liked you to begin with. You creep me out.
Sammy: Ben…
Greg: Well, heh, that’s not what your mom says.
Ben: Don’t you bring my mom into this.
Greg: Your mother things I am a fine, upstanding, entrepreneur, and model citizen!
Ben: She’s an idiot then! Sorry mom.
Greg: Heathen!
Sammy: Guys! (Clears throat) Okay so you disturbed Greg’s meeting with Emily. You ordered food you didn’t eat. I-is that it?
Ben: Basically! He lost it because I was probably in the shot of his candid camera date!
Greg: I lost my temper, but you had it coming! You get Emily whenever you want and I schedule months in advance!
Ben: Yeah, and you did it during the Valentine's Day Dance. Just real messed up, man. You’re a stalker.
Greg: Who showed up at whose date, Ben?
Ben: I was just having dinner at my favorite sponsor’s restaurant.
Greg: You don’t even like frogs!
Ben: Nobody does!
Greg: Why don’t you tell them how you got escorted off the premises?
Ben: You just did, idiot!
Sammy: If you were just eating, or not eating as the case may be, how did they have the grounds to toss you out of Granny Frickard’s?
Ben: Ugh. I- I may have started throwing tiny hush puppies in Greg’s general direction.
Greg: You, you, you may have? Pah-lease! You were pretending to be Nolan Ryan while you’re lobbing them at my head.
Ben: You had no right to kiss Emily’s hand!
Greg: Well you wouldn’t have even known if you weren’t, you know, stalking us to begin with!
Ben: Yeah? Well, uh, stay away from Emily!
Greg: Well I won’t have a problem doing that since she hates us both.
Sammy: I’m sorry, what’s that, Greg?
Ben: Can we move on… please.
Greg: Emily left in a huff and said she wasn’t a prize to be won. Totally thought she was roleplaying and I called her princess Jasmine… Which she also didn’t appreciate…
Ben: Nice touch, dumbass. Referencing Aladdin don’t make it right.
Greg: It’s kind of ludicrous when you think about it. I mean, she is a prize to be one. She’s the trophiest of trophy wives to ever be trophy won!
Ben: She’s pretty mad, Sammy.
Sammy: It sounds like she kinda should be…
Ben: She probably hates me now, man. Stupid stunt…
Sammy: I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, Ben.
Greg: Oh yeah, she hates him big time. I mean, she hates us both, but it’s basically a win for me. She was only lukewarm to my intentions but she can’t stand Ben now. She’ll eventually come back around to the Frog Prince if, uh, he’s out of the picture.
Ben: Greg.
Greg: I’ll take your apology on air, Ben. But I would also like it written on a nice piece of cardstock so I can show it to Granny.
Ben: I sincerely hope that you catch a frog-based STD and die.
Greg: And I hope that you find another perfect woman to fall head over heels in love with, Ben, because you just struck out. You stuck out big time.
Ben: You’re an imbecile! Nobody likes eating frogs! It’s 2016, Greg! You’re gross!
Greg: Ha! Shows what you know. Some cultures consider frogs the poultry of the pond.
Ben: Literally no cultures say that!
Greg: Oh yeah? Well ask Kirk Sycamore when he comes on, he’ll show you.
Ben: I’m not asking anybody anything.
Sammy: Greg, I think it’s best if we part ways for the night.
Greg: Fine! No skin off my bubble butt! Later haters!
[The sound of a phone hanging up]
Sammy: I think-
Ben: Can we just go to commercial, Sammy? I just- I can’t right now.
Sammy: D-do you want to? Is that on schedule?
Ben: No! And, no… Ugh, just take a couple more calls before the bird man pops in.
Sammy: Lucky line one you’re live on-
Caller: Hi, Sammy. Hi, Ben…
Sammy: Good evening, Emily. I assume you’ve been listening.
Emily. I’ve been listening.
Sammy: You know what, let me put you on hold so you can talk to Ben off the air.
Emily: No! I’d like to talk to Ben on the air, if you don’t mind, Sammy.
Sammy: You know, I uh… Ben?
Ben: Uh, whatever you want, Emily.
Emily: Okay, you know I don’t hate you, Ben. Far, far from it.
Ben: I’m so sorry Emily. I just, I lost it sitting there, thinking that you were all alone with that creep and-
Emily: You acted like a real ass.
Ben: I know I did!
Emily: I’m not a child, Ben. When I told you that I would love to go to the dance with you, that was the truth. But when I also told you that I was a woman of my word and was going to honor my prior engagements, as stupid and contrived as they were, I meant that too.
Ben: I just-
Emily: You acted like an ass!
Ben: I know, but-
Emily: There’s no explanation that will make this better, Ben! You acted like a jealous boyfriend and I’m not sure if you know this, but you aren’t my boyfriend.
Ben: Can I just say-
Emily: Even if I wanted you to be before, you aren’t. So you have no right to act like this!
Ben: (Pausing) You wanted me to be your boyfriend?
Emily: Before the incident there was no doubt about it.
Ben: After?
Emily: I- I- uh- I can’t let my feelings override the fact that you treated me like a kid, Ben. I am a grown woman! I am a professional woman. I don’t need some white knight to save me from the likes of Greg! And while I appreciate the idea behind it, like I said to you and I said to Greg, I am a person! I have feelings! I’m not a prize to be won!
Ben: I really messed this up, I’m… I’m sorry. Emily if you’ll just-
Emily: I just- I need some time to evaluate what the next step is.
Ben: Because you hate me.
Emily: No! Bec- because I lo- I strongly strongly like, probably definitely on the verge of more. I mean, I was scared to death that you were hurt or worse during Lincoln’s revenge! But I was scared even more when I saw you acting like a high school bully during that meeting.
Ben: You strongly strongly like me?
Emily: I do. But it’s, it’s gonna be a little bit before I can trust you to be okay with that.
Ben: I understand.
Emily: But I… I wasn’t going to let another minute go by of you think that I hated you. Cause I don’t. But you really need to fix this.
Ben: And I will. I- I promise.
Emily: I hope so. (pause) Ah, goodnight, Sammy. Ben.
Sammy: Goodnight, Emily. We will talk soon.
Emily: I’m sure of it. Ah, I actually wanted to talk to you about being one of the library’s spring break speakers soon. I’ll send you an email.
Sammy: Oh, please do. Anything to get the kids back in the library after, you know, Lincoln’s revenge…
Emily: Thanks, Sammy. Goodnight, guys.
Ben: Hey- hey, Emily?
[The sound of a phone hanging up with a beeping that slowly fades out. The King Falls outro music and credits begin.]
References:
Nolan Ryan: a baseball pitcher.
The Big Bang Theory: A television show.
Edward Scissorhands: a charactor from an old fantasy movie by the same name about a man who had scissors for hands.
Harlequin novels: a trashy romance story.
Characters:
Sammy Stevens, Ben Arnold, Troy, Greg Frickard, Emily Potter, Pete Meyers, Beauregard, Ernie Salsado.
#king falls am#king falls am podcast#podcast#podcast transcript#transcript#king falls am transcript#king falls transcript#king falls podcast
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Mikasa Ackermann, Levi Ackermann, Amane Misa, Aeron Greyjoy for the charactet ask :3
SOMEONE HEARD MY PRAYERS AND NOW MY TIME HAS COME, tysm!!!!! <3
okay, let's start with levi (my beloved):
general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life (THEE little feral anime man after my heart)
hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang (Dark, Tall and Snarky + piercing grey-blue eyes and chronic insomnia? clearly my type ❤)
hogwarts house: gryffindor (maybe....?) | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff
ugh, the hp sorting house system is way too reductive. he has qualities of gryffindor, slytherin, and hufflepuff - brave, astute, loyal to a fault, etc. so it's a hard choice. but if i really have to choose, i'd go for gryffindor. i know that his Bad Boy facade shouts slytherin, but while he has larger goals (killing all the titans, then saving the world etc.), he's got no actual ambition for himself. hufflepuff would also be a good option.
daemon (from the his dark materials series): (because i've just decided that's just way more accurate than the hp method) some kind of big feline. maybe a panther - a black panther would be the ideal - aloof, predatory, dangerous, fiercely independent.
best quality: besides his obvious strenghts as a leader and warrior, the way he cares for his comrades-in-arms. it's very hard to gain his trust and respect, but once you have it, it's forever. he's pragmatic and ruthless, yes, but he also has a huge capacity for compassion and friendship. not that he would be effusive about his affections, of course.
worst quality: none, he's absolutely perfect ❤ jklsdfhjk jokes aside, he really struggles to open up (a serious understatement), idt he ever talked about his traumatic past with anyone. i mean, maybe he mentioned it to hange and erwin (erwin knew him when he was still an undergound thug, so...), but... he's not great with feelings. despite his apathetic, intimidating mask, he feels and cares deeply, but he has a long history with losing the people he loves, so he tries to not personally care about his squadmates, which can be both a strenght and a weakness. of course, he spectacularly fails at this.
ship them with: well, it's not a secret that i'm a huge rivamika fan, this ship is almost literally consuming my waking thoughts lmao. imo they're perfectly compatible: very similar personalities (stoic, the strongest warriors, absolutely terrifying on the battlefield but with a soft underbelly), very similar pasts/experiences, so many parallels that it's actually ridiculous, etc. i love how they're both each other's equals and likeness (yes, i took it from jane eyre. no, i don't regret anything lmao). a lot of tropes i love, too: Terrible First Impression (the Pride and Prejudice vibes are so strong with these two, you have no idea), Kindred Spirits/Mirror Images, Veteran/Young Prodigy, The Last of Their Kind, even Height Difference lmao. i could write a whole rivamika manifesto, but this is already too long. (maybe for some other time 👀) i would've loved for their dynamic to be more explored in canon but alas, isayama clearly didn't give a shit about the ackerman legacy, he just used it as a plot shortcut to give them conveniently unique powers, since they never really talked about it 🙄 (and before some troll comes into my askbox shouting "you iNcEsT fReAk!!!!1!!", they're only very distantly related. we know shit about the ackermans but we know for sure that they've got at least several generations between them. biologically their shared DNA is 0%, obviously they don't see each other as family, all the eldians have a dead ass common ancestor from 2000 years ago so they're all basically ⁓related anyway. if you really wanna scream about i.ncest, go watch got/dark/the borgias and shut the fuck up please. or alternatively go outside and touch some grass) sorry for the rant, uh. anyway, i can also see levi/erwin. idk if i'd ever care enough to read a fic about them (i'm usually a huge multishipper, but for some weird reason not when it comes to rivamika? same with braime and kastle tbh), but still, i can see it.
brotp them with: hange and erwin, obv. veteran trio >>> ema trio, sorry not sorry (at least h. and e. died before yams had the chance to ruin their character arcs)
needs to stay away from: ...uh, filth, i guess? lmao
misc. thoughts: besides the stupid teenage fangirl crush i have on him, i'm genuinely fascinated by the man himself. he's a huge mess of a contradictions, and yet somehow it works: he's violent and brash and kind of an asshole, but also has a strong moral code and integrity; he's obv very skilled at all the killing/torturing stuff and yet he has a huge respect for life; he's got a potty mouth to say the least, and yet some very aristocratic manners/tastes (the way he sits, his preference for tea and usually refined clothes); he comes from what's supposed to be an illustrous bloodline, he's methodical and very precise, and yet he was born and raised in the underground, he's been used to filth and blood and poverty since he was a child, kenny of all people was his father figure, and probably has known no other life than a perennial survival mode existence. he's "humanity's strongest soldier", but while well-built he's also small, the david to the titans' goliah, and probably not what people would assume a born warrior looks like. he's also one of the few characters who stayed true to himself and his original characterization until the end, bless you smol king ❤
(okay, this is getting long!)
mikasa:
general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them (so much. she deserved better ❤️) | actual love of my life
hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! (stunning lady ❤) | 10/10 would bang
hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff
this is actually easy: mikasa belongs to hufflepuff and no, i won't take criticism (just joking lol). enough with this "hufflepuffs are fluffy puppies/Cinnamon Rolls <3" thing: mikasa values loyalty and duty more than anything else. she's also hardworking... and fierce, strong, lethal. yes, hufflepuff and lethal are not mutually exclusive concepts.
daemon: (finally the better option) a she-wolf, fiercely protective of her pack.
best quality: loyal, brave, incredibly strong (alongside her more fragile qualities). practical and level-headed on the battlefield, at least when eren is not included in the picture.
worst quality: struggles to let go of the past (understandable, considering her trauma). tunnel-vision when it comes to eren, obv. extreme levels of delusions ("if only i spoke openly about my romantic feelings for him - as if i didn't made them abundantly clear in ⁓6 years - he wouldn't kill 80% of humanity :(((" lmao okay. just. okay), but that's more on the writing. she's sadly more static than any other main character throughtout the whole series.
ship them with: see above :) but recently i've also started to be intrigued by mikasa/annie and mikasa/sasha. also, i'm sympathetic to jeankasa fans, though i don't actually care for the ship.
brotp them with: EMA trio, especially armin+mikasa. their friendship is so beautiful and special. also sasha.
needs to stay away from: ...... eren, at least romantically. again, that's more on the writing than anything else, but e.remika unfortunately encompasses many tropes i loathe with all the strength of my old shriveled heart: childhood friends-to lovers where the (male) childhood friend doesn't acknolewdge/is completely indifferent to the other (female) friend's romantic feelings, she hopelessly pines for him for years without anything more than a cold shoulder... until in the last chapter it's revealed that he loved her all along and doesn't "want other men to have her!!! :((" (then why did you have no reaction whatsoever to jean's years-long crush on her while she was jealous of any vaguely female-shaped human being you were friendly to, including hange? are you that dumb, man?); the female character's development and entire arc 100% revolves around the male protagonist - she has no goals, no dreams of her own except staying with him forever and ever; the romance is based on an idealized childhood dream, therefore reaffirming those childish illusions would make the character regress, not actually grow up (and nope, epilogue!jk doesn’t count; that also lacks build-up - i would’ve said the same about rm as well, so it’s not about shipping, guys, it really isn’t - and mikasa needed an inner change; getting married to another man but still praying to eren’s shrine is not substitute to actual development lol). post-time skip she's never really frustrated/angry with him, they never get a confrontation about him becoming a, y'know, mass-murderer of gigantic (pun intended) proportions; she puts him on a pedestal, and never stops idealizing him/never sees him for what he actually is (the narrative framing him as some kind of tragic martyr/saint eren from paradis with zero agency and basically... no clear motivation for the abovementioned mass murder, and not the actual complex tragic anti-hero/villain motivated by revenge and righteous fury he deserved to be, does not help). it lacks a good or even decent build-up - it's basically all tell and not show. now, if they'd actually been childhood friends to enemies to lovers/mutually co-dependent... it could have been interesting. sadly, it's not my cup of tea. of course this is just my personal preference, no hard feelings to the shippers.
misc. thoughts: enormous potential. she's been my fav female character since s1 - and ah, i miss s1!mikasa, when she had actually other stuff to do besides mothering eren. i love that she's the strongest warrior (second only to levi, obv), that her skills are never called into questions despite her gender, i love how she stands up for herself and the people she loves, that she may seem cold and stoic and yet has a such a huge heart, that she's not perfect but also sometimes awe-inspiring. sadly, she never really gets out of eren's shadow; what she lacks is an arc focused on herself. that's why imo getting deeper into the ackerman lore would've helped (also, you cannot make the main female character and the most popular male character descend from the same Unique Bloodline or whatever, and never really make them acknowledge it out loud; as a writer, you just can't lol). my spite is so strong that i'm currently writing a ridiculously pretentious fic that's 70% development for her character, to give her a voice, and 30% ackerthirsting. (yes, that's the fic i'm always vagueblogging about lmao, rip @ my brain). if any other rivamika fan is interested… mind you, it’s in italian tho, and idt i have the skills to translate into english.
misa:
general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life
hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang
hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff
daemon: mmh, maybe some kind of butterfly? beautiful, colorful, and short-lived.
best quality: glorious fashion sense, more inventive and ingenious than fans actually give her credit for.
worst quality: shallow, impulsive, and obv her dependence on/obsession with light (which stems from trauma btw, but still… the very opposite of a relationship between equals).
ship them with: rem, kinda (monster/human ftw!). also weirdly enough mogi, a little bit? she deserves someone who actually respects her… though she’s far from being a perfect angel. she may actually be crazier than light on some aspects. but in this house we stan evil ladies anyway, so i have no problem with that <3
brotp them with: uh, idk, maybe matsuda?
needs to stay away from: obv light. also takada.
misc. thoughts: a tragic victim of sexist writing. she may be… unhinged to say the least, but she didn’t deserve the abuse she got from light (and from the fans). the female characters’ writing in dn is so bad that idk if it’s on purpose, to kinda mirror the reality of women in a patriarchal society (dependent on men, housewives whose life entirely revolves around their husband/boyfriend etc.), or just casual misogyny lol. it’s even more baffling since we don’t know the author’s gender (they may be a man, a woman, nb, anything really). i tend for the latter option tho.
aegon greyjoy (now, i wasn’t expecting him lol):
general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life
hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang
hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff
i’m so sorry, i haven’t the slightest idea lmao. maybe gryffindor? mind you, it’s been a long time since i’ve re-read the books, so i don’t have many thoughts about him.
daemon: maybe it’s cliché, but some kind of fish/squid lmao
best quality: ugh, i really can’t remember much from his chapters :(( he’s not a coward, i guess? (lame answer, sorry!)
worst quality: definitely his religious fanaticism.
ship them with: no one.
brotp them with: uh… his family, ig? except euron.
needs to stay away from: obv euron. brr ://
misc. thoughts: i genuinely like the greyjoys chapters, though i vastly prefer the martells (with the exception of theon and asha, bcs i love them). yes, they’re deranged. yes, victarion is… well, victarion lol. but the drowned god religion is actually interesting, grrm knows how to write trauma - every time aeron mentions euron and that freaking door i’m like… :// - and the tragedy of it all… just great writing all around.
okay, that’s the end lmao. thank you so much, love!!! ❤❤
#1#2#3#4#5#asks#cafeleningrad#if *anyone* dares to start stupid wank on my super niche blog they'll be blocked on sight i'm warning you#snk salt
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