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acanvasofabillionsuns · 7 months

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IT'S STILL VALENTINE'S DAY, HAVE THE PROMISED VALENTINE'S DAY FIC

Summary: Nimona's got a girlfriend, and her family insists on meeting her. Warnings: uhhh none? Wordcount: irdk man. probably between 1-2k

Nimona didn’t spend all of her time in the kingdom. That would drive her crazy, with all the people who hated her, specifically, with a single-minded intensity. She found herself drawn to the place, never staying away for very long (she’d managed a decade, once, and then whatever drove her back to Gloreth’s kingdom had kept her there for a couple centuries afterward until she got itchy enough to leave again), but she did leave every now and then. It might’ve been more often, if not for the intense regulations and constant patrols that made slipping out and back in again so very difficult.

She’d actually gone to explore just a little under a year before everything went down with Ballister and the Director and people starting to Actually Not Hate Her. And though this change was definitely something that Nimona wanted — needed — to see play out, she had a very good reason to leave the city again so soon.

Someone was waiting for her, after all.

At the thought, Nimona stretched and rolled into a stand. She trotted away from her sunspot to find Ballister, enjoying the patter of her little cat feet against the ground.

She found him in his workshop, tinkering away at something she didn’t care to examine as a peppy tune cheered out from his radio. She leaped and landed delicately on top of it, one paw gently pressing the stop button.

“Heya, Boss, got a question for ya.”

“Nimona?” Ballister squinted down at her. Even after a week, there was still some mush in his eyes when he looked at her, like he still couldn’t believe she’d come back. “You didn’t have to pause my music. What’s up?”

Nimona shot him a catty little smirk before asking, “Do you know what the security for the wall is like these days? Like, if I left, would it trip any alarms or anything?” She’d heard something about them opening the wall, but as she’d spent all of her time here, it was only scant mentions.

Ballister turned to face her fullywith a look of alarm. She had his full, serious attention now, but, like, why? Was it because she’d (indirectly) referenced her sacrifice and what she’d missed while reforming? Because she was totally fine now.

“Is everything okay?” Ballister asked, flashing sad eyes at her. And Nimona was the cat here, geez.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.” She batted a paw over her ear so she wouldn’t have to face Ballister’s sad look, even if for a few seconds. “I just wanna go visit my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?!”

“Girlfriend??” came Ambrosius’s echo, even more bewildered than Ballister. He peeked his head around the doorway. “Who has a girlfriend?”

“Nimona!” Ballister turned to him, and they shared incredulous looks.

“Since when??”

“Now, apparently!”

“Since before I even met either of you two bozos,” Nimona interjected, tail lashing in annoyance. What was so shocking about her having a girlfriend? They were partners, clearly they were familiar with gay people.

“Why haven’t you mentioned her before?” Ballister asked, turning back to Nimona with another sad look.

“I don’t know if you remember,” Nimona drawled, “but we were kind of going through a lot of things. Not much time for irrelevant stuff like my relationship status.” Also she hadn’t been in a great spot mentally, spiraling over all the negatives in her life, and good things like her girlfriend had been hard to think about. But that was also irrelevant.

Ballister’s face fell a bit in realization, and Ambrosius snorted.

“She’s got you there, Bal.”

“Oh, hush.” Ballister flapped a hand at him without looking. “Who is she? Would we know her?”

“I doubt it,” Nimona snorted. “She’s outside the walls. That’s why I asked about security.”

“Outside the walls?” Ambrosius and Ballister echoed in identical concerned tones.

“Yeah.” Nimona rolled her eyes. “So…? Am I going to have to sneak out? Do you think I could just guilt trip them into letting me? Would I set off any alarms if I just went for it? What’s the situation here?”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Ballister spread his arms and shook his head. “Back up. You have a girlfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Outside the walls.”

“Yes.”

“That you’ve never mentioned before.”

“Like I said, never really seemed like the right time.”

Ballister stared at her for a moment, then put his head in hands. “Nope. Not computing.”

This was starting to get annoying. “What, do you want to meet her?”

“Yes, actually.” Ballister raised his head to stare at Nimona almost challengingly. “I do want to meet her.”

Nimona shifted to human to cross her arms at him. “Fine. You can come with me to visit her.”

Ballister crossed his arms right back. “Fine. We’ll do that then.”

“Good.”

“Awesome.”

“Incredible.”

“Glad we’ve got this sorted, then!” Ambrosius cut in, looking between the two of them hesitantly.

Nimona rolled her eyes and left the room, calling, “We’re leaving tomorrow!” over her shoulder.

—

“Nimona, how far away is this girlfriend?” Ballister asked for the third day in a row. He should be grateful they’d managed to secure a ship large enough for the three of them and supplies, or it would’ve taken a lot longer. Humans and their easily-tired legs — they’d already had to stop multiple times each day just for them to stretch. Because not-walking all day was apparently also a strain. This was why being Nimona was 100% better.

“Not far now,” she acquiesced.

She wasn’t actually entirely sure, having taken a much more leisurely, wandering route last time. But she’d gotten back to Gloreth’s kingdom in about three days, and Nimona going slowly was probably about equal to a ship making frequent stops. So it couldn’t be too far off.

An hour or so later she stiffened in excitement as she spotted a familiar crumbling skyscraper poking up through the trees. Ballister and Ambrosius both noticed, looking up from their books.

“What is it?” Ballister asked. “Are we there?”

“We’re close,” Nimona grinned, and then jumped out of the ship and twirled into a HummingBomber (minus the bombs, unfortunately), zipping ahead of the ship to look around. The city had changed radically since she’d been here last, with destroyed buildings made over to useable and what looked like a neighborhood with people in it.

Nimona swooped low, distantly registering the ship behind her scrambling to follow suit through the trees. Once she was close enough to the ground, she tumbled into a jaguar and roared with joy, sprinting towards the city.

There was an answering, much louder roar and a Mega Jaguar emerged from the city. Nimona pushed herself faster.

When they were only a few lengths apart, they both shifted back to human and ran the rest of the distance.

“Kipooooo!”

“Nimonaaaa!”

They collided, spinning in a hug and sinking to the ground to hold each other. Kipp began peppering her face in kisses and Nimona hugged her tight, trying to crystallize this moment in her memory.

There was noise behind her, electronic whirring and footsteps rapidly approaching, and Nimona almost bit at them before remembering who it was. She swallowed down the shark teeth and turned to give a nonthreatening grin to Ballister and Ambrosius.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend.”

Kipo had also tensed at the sound of them approaching, hugging Nimona closer to herself protectively. She relaxed when Nimona greeted them.

“Hi! I’m Kipo!”

“Hi,” Ambrosius said, taking over introductions. Ballister was examining the two of them, a thoughtful frown on his face. Nimona raised an eyebrow at him. Immediately the expression cleared and he shot her an encouraging smile. Nimona rolled her eyes and turned back to bury her face in Kipo’s shoulder, soaking it all in and letting the others’ words wash over her.

“Mona,” Kipo called quietly, tapping her shoulder. Nimona hummed and dragged her head up, smiling at her. “Do you want to show your friends around Las Vistas?”

“Sure!” Nimona stood in one fluid motion, pulling Kipo up with her. “I mean, you should really be the one to do it, it’s your dream and I haven’t been here in ages and I can see there’s so much new stuff and everything, but yeah, let’s go!”

“Oh my gosh, there’s so much to catch you up on,” Kipo gushed. “We’ve set up a couple new neighborhoods, and we’re figuring out a public transport system, and— oh, I can’t wait to show you!”

“I can’t wait to see!” Nimona grinned. Kipo’s joy was always so infectious.

Kipo’s grin widened and her arms shifted into paws. “Wanna race?”

Nimona crouched at the ready, shifting to match Kipo, before she remembered Ballister and Ambrosius and glanced back at them. Ballister was particularly wide-eyed, though they both seemed startled. Did they not realize Kipo was the Mega Jaguar? Or just that she could partially shift? They didn’t seem repulsed, either way, so it could wait. She stood back up and faced them.

“Would you guys want to be riders?” Nimona offered. It would complicate things a bit — Kipo would have to shift fully, and so Nimona would have to find a form to match her — but she wasn’t just going to leave them. If they really didn’t want to, they could all… walk. (Nimona really hoped they were fine being riders.)

“…Sure,” Ballister agreed, exchanging glances with Ambrosius, then repeated it more confidently when Nimona grinned in excitement. “We can do teams. Nimona and I and then Kipo and Ambrosius. If that works for everyone…?”

“Sure!” Kipo chirped. She shifted into her full form and bowed to allow Ambrosius to climb on.

Nimona beamed at Ballister. “What do you think we should do, Boss?” They could always go for a matching Mega Jaguar, though something with wings might be faster. There were also the other Mega Mutes to consider, though Ballister wouldn’t be familiar with them to pick one. Though… Ballister probably wouldn’t be familiar with anything big enough to compete with Kipo. “Bunny or dog? I guess I could do something else, but those are what I’m most familiar with, so they’re our best bet for winning.”

“Dog?” Ballister said, looking confused right up until he was scooped up onto a giant setter’s back. “I don’t know I’m ever surprised anymore,” he muttered fondly, patting a bit of Nimona’s head that was within reach.

Nimona barked instead of responding, because she didn’t think Ballister meant for her to hear that. And because mutes were a bit weird—she could shift into them, of course, but something about their changed physiology made shifting into a Timbercat feel different than a regular cat. It wasn’t hard or bad, more like stretching a stiff limb, a kind of pleasant strain. Mega Mutes amplified this feeling. Something about the “changed but still dumb” aspect made it easier to communicate nonverbally in their forms.

Kipo growled in response, a smooth rumble that grew louder until they were both vibrating with tension. Nimona barked and they both took off.

Nimona had picked her form for speed, but Kipo knew the area inside and out, and that won her the race. Nimona shifted to human, making sure Ballister landed safely on the ground, and pouted at Kipo. She let Ambrosius clamber off before shifting back. Nimona immediately pouted harder once she was back to human and Kipo giggled, coming over and kissing her.

“How do you like your second place prize?” Kipo murmured, placing another kiss on her cheek.

“I don’t know,” Nimona copied her low tone. “What’s the first place prize?”

“This.” Kipo kissed her again, slow and sweet. Nimona’s form rippled, near bursting with emotion. Her new bunny ears flopped on either side of her head and Kipo broke away to huff a laugh as they brushed against her. “Oh, these are cute.”

“Not as cute as you,” Nimona argued. Kipo blushed.

“Thank you.” She gave Nimona a soft smile, then put her hands on her hips and looked over Las Vistas. “Okay, I’m thinking we should start with a tour of the shopping district, and I can show you all the new stuff, and Ballister and Ambrosius—“ she glanced over for confirmation. Nimona nodded “—can see everything for the first time. And then I can take you home and show you the new neighborhood stuff on the way and you can see everyone.”

“Sounds good with us,” Ballister agreed, he and Ambrosius coming over at their names.

“Awesome!” Kipo clapped her hands together with a bright grin and began the tour.

—

Later, when they got a moment, Ballister pulled Nimona aside.

“Okay, so I know the animal people, mutes, aren’t really like you, but, Kipo?” He looked so hopeful for her. “She’s done human and jaguar stuff, is she— y’know? Like you?”

Nimona smiled at him and tried not to make it sad. “Not really. She’s got the two forms, and she can kind of half shift, but that’s it.”

“Oh,” Ballister’s face fell. “I mean, I’m happy for you, of course, but… I know how important finding someone like you can be.” He looked over at Ambrosius, who was chatting with Lio.

“Yeah, but she can still relate to some things,” Nimona told him. “I’m not totally alone.”

“That’s true.” Ballister smiled at her, a fond thing that always made Nimona’s insides squirm happily. “And you’ll always have us.”

“Yeah,” Nimona agreed, then darted in for a hug.

#i'm. so tired. it's been a long day #i will fix this up some for the ao3 version and that will go up. probably either like friday or next week #anyway thank you to max and percy for betaing (if it's kinda meh it's not their fault)#my fics #my writing #nimona #kipo and the age of wonderbeasts #if bal seems like he's backslid a bit then it's bc he's protective of nimona + still unlearning some things and those are mixing a bit weir #d. also he's a new parent and so he's going to say the wrong thing sometimes

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jadeile-writes · 10 months

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Fanfic Progress Update 153

Hi people, it's time to do an update on this week's writing progress. Stay tuned for a sneak-peek for Keep the Cuddles Platonic -challenge at the bottom of this post!

Current WIPs:

Keep the Cuddles Platonic -challenge

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Summary: Doctor Robotnik is simultaneously touch averse and touch starved, which results in a plan to "get the touching needs over with" in the most efficient way he could think of: cuddles overnight, when he wouldn't be doing anything useful anyway. Agent Stone was not privy to the plan until they arrived at their hotel room for their business trip.

Progress: Chapter 2 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 23rd of November. Chapter 3 is finished and will be posted on 30th of November aka next Thursday. Chapters 4 and 5 are also finished :D

Originally this was supposed to be a threeshot, but chapter 3 got so long that I cut it into two chapters, and chapter 4 reached the desired word count perfectly naturally, so it was clearly a necessity. Chapter 5 just kind of wrote itself, it's a shorter epilogue chapter that the fic didn't really need, but now that it's there it perfects it, so turns out the fic did need it, I just didn't know it. Anyway, it's all written now and only needs to be posted.

—–

I'm Signing in the Drain

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Summary (temporary): Not many people know this, but Doctor Robotnik is actually deaf and uses hearing aids to make up for it. Agent Stone does not know this, he just kind of assumes he's told to learn sign language upon being assigned for some other, mysterious reasons, and not as a "just in case" measure.

Progress: This fic will have at least three chapters, maybe four, maybe more (if I decide I actually want to do more with this concept than my initial idea, because the potential is there). The second chapter is almost done. The first chapter is now about 1/3 done.

I'm actually not sure if this fic will end up being Stobotnik aside from Stone being Big Gay as usual, cause Robotnik is being very aroace right now and I don't know if he'll give Stone a chance or not, as that is not really the point of the fic. We'll see how this shapes up.

—–

SBLF (workname)

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Summary (temporary):

Wanted: a yesman who is capable of operating an espresso machine, has at least a higher IQ than your average amoeba, and is willing to put work before having a personal life, or indeed a life, period. The extra in your pathetic paycheck is good, but the strain in your psyche will make up for the positives. Forfeit your basic human rights and apply today if this sounds like you.

Maybe it said something about Agent Stone - and probably not good things - that the poster in the cafeteria's pin board piqued his interest more than any of his official assignments had for a good long while.

Dr. Robotnik, huh?

Progress: This one will be a longfic, probably around 20 chapters. It's a bit hard to estimate at this point, so the number is subject to change. Or I might cut this into two fics in a series, because quite honestly, it's two stories in one package (that is, half of it is pre-canon and half post-canon, so you know, could easily have two fics.) My writing hours will be devoted to this fic.

I have the first three chapters completely written now. Chapter 4 is half done. I also have two halfway written chapters that don't yet know their exact placement within the fic (they're scenes that will be slotted in to wherever they feel natural, once we get Stone settled in.)

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to Someday™:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Zelda: BotW)

Hah, our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest! (Hazbin Hotel)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here’s the promised sneak-peek into Keep the Cuddles Platonic -challenge (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

It was a perfectly average day at Doctor Robotnik’s laboratory. No business trips, no missions, no field tests, nothing but staying at the lab. Stone’s workday would be from ten to six, he’d do his usual everyday work, no meetings scheduled, no presentations, no visitors, no deadline crunches.

Simply a regular Thursday.

Except it was going to be anything but.

When Stone came in for the day, the lab smelled off in a way that was hard to define. Curiously, he walked up to the big crossroad that divided the lab building into two distinct halves and sniffed the air, pinpointing that the smell was coming from the left corridor, which meant the origin was likely the testing lab. Upon entering it, he could immediately see the cause of the smell: the large steel glass cabinet where the doctor tested various weapon proofnesses of his prototypes was covered in soot, metal bits, and chemical splatter. In short, the machine he had worked on yesterday when Stone clocked out had exploded upon testing.

Stone cringed in sympathy. That was days of careful work gone up in smoke just like that. At least he hadn’t been here to get yelled at for it.

—–

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

Links:

My AO3 My FFnet My Ko-fi Radiohusk Discord Server

#fanfic progress update #stobotnik

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illiana-mystery · 1 year

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oh P.S. BIG fan of your story Collateral. I am Obsessed. Such a pity theres like no stories for molinas character from that episode

Oh thank you! You're too kind. 😁💙

I really need to get back to writing that one. (I hate writer's block) But I have had fun writing it for almost a year now. Crazy how time flies!

And yes, you're so right. It is sad that there are virtually no other fics for Silas. His character had so much potential that the writers barely fleshed out. That was the reason why I wrote Collateral.

Plus I love westerns since it's a big part of my family's culture (my roots being from Louisiana with a Creole and Native background).

But also, just for you, here's a sneak peek of the next chapter. Hopefully I'll be able to get back to it soon. 🤞🏾 I made yall wait too long.

------

"Mmmmm," Silas hummed as he gobbled up the bowl of stew in front of him.

He was just eating away, almost as sloppily as Billy the night before but it warmed your heart.

You never cooked for anyone other than your father and seeing your love interest indulge in your cooking made you feel some type of way.

Hell, you barely touched your own bowl of stew. No, you were just content watching him enjoy his warm meal.

Hannibal and Billy were also clearly enjoying your food, having not said a word since they began to chow down.

The only sounds in their home were slurping and chewing and you patted yourself on the back for that.

"I'm glad you like the stew," you said with a content giggle.

"Like it?" Silas scoffed. "Darlin, I love this. Best possum stew I've ever had."

"I agree, boss," Billy perked up. "This is delicious."

"Looks like the little lady does know how to make a mean possum stew. I'm impressed too," Hannibal chimed in. "Yeah, we're never gonna let you go back to your daddy."

Silas chuckled.

"She already made her choice," he responded before he rubbed your back. "She's one of us now."

You giggled to yourself before you kissed his cheek.

"Happy to be one of you," you stated. "Any of you boys want seconds?"

"I got it, little lady. Why don't you eat? You barely touched your bowl."

"Oh, I don't mind," you assured before Silas held you down.

"Hannibal got it," he insisted. "Now eat. I don't want you going hungry worrying about us."

"Well, alright. I really don't mind."

"I know you don't," he cooed before he gently kissed you. "You spoil us way too much."

"Well, I'm appreciative. Honestly, I've enjoyed my time here. I hate to admit it, but I barely miss my pa."

Silas didn't respond. Instead he hugged you tight and kissed one of the love bites that decorated your neck.

You fell deeper into his embrace and then began to eat. But as you ate, your sense of taste felt even more exhilarated by the warmth of the old bandit's body wrapped around yours.

It was a strange phenomenon to you, but welcomed nonetheless. It did make the stew taste even better after all.

------

I also have a Silas McCall/Joe Cribbens x Reader fic in the works. Hopefully I can get it out next month. 🤞🏾 I've been racking my brain because I want it to be perfect. So stay tuned for that! 😉

Also we need a western with Fred and Willem as the leads like yesterday. Like it's a weird dream of mine. It would be so perfect. 🥹😩

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adorerdraco · 4 years

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I’m Here ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: Hi, so I’m not sure if you’re taking these kinds of fics for Draco, but I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was wondering if you could write a one shot or a scenario where the reader has been having a really bad day/week and Draco comforts them? And maybe Draco lays the reader on his chest and he hums a small tune to make the reader feel better? You can ignore this if it’s an issue, but I’d really appreciate it. I love all of your fics btw! They make me really happy <3

Warnings: none bc mostly fluff, some tears, super soft!draco

Words: 1.9K

A/N: i saw this and had to do it effective immediately bc i am feeling the exact same wayyy so this was really nice to think about ;( thank you so much for requesting this and for reading my stuff and i’m so glad i can help in a way <3 i’m sending you nothing but peace, love, and light !!! but i really hope this is gooood <3 do not own gif

Life was punishing you, you thought. It had to be. Because there was no way how in the span of a week everything in your day-to-day life had gone from okay to borderline catastrophic. It was as if every situation you were in was taking its form in the worst case possible scenario and all you could do was watch hopelessly as things continuously got worse sprinkled with small misfortunes in between.

It started on a regular Monday morning, sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall with blissful ignorance. Halfway through eating your toast, your owl had come in through the open large glass windows and dropped a letter onto your plate from home that left you some very unfortunate news and had set forth a ripple effect that began making everything else go downhill as your days progressed. By the end of the school week, you had managed to blow up a potion, lose house points because of said potion when it splashed onto some people and had some physically altering effects, tripped over your footing and fell in the middle of a crowded corridor, failed a surprise quiz, forgot to turn in an essay, got into an argument with a friend, accidentally slept in and missed a morning class, and took a trip to the hospital wing for a migraine that didn’t want to leave you alone. You could’ve sworn you had somehow been thrown into purgatory, or limbo, or something outer-worldly.

“Are you alright?” Draco had asked you right after breakfast that Monday morning as he was walking you to your first class. “What was in the letter your owl gave you? You look worried.”

“It was nothing,” you dismissed quickly, trying to put on a half-hearted smile while you spoke to make it more convincing. “I’m fine, just tired.”

It was the beginning of the week, and he did keep you up late the night before when you were sneaking around together, so he just shook his head up and down and took your excuse even though he felt like there was more to it than you were letting on. But as the days went on, he was becoming more observant of the way you were acting and even looking. He didn’t like that every morning he saw the shadows under your eyes get deeper and darker, and he didn’t like how you would close your eyes in pain when you would groan about your headache. He also didn’t like the way he hadn’t seen you truly smile or laugh all week even when he tried countless times to amuse you or cheer you up. But what he didn’t like most of all was that he felt like there was nothing he could do.

On Wednesday afternoon, he tried asking you again. You were sitting in the Quad with him on a bench and he was telling you a story from earlier in the day about how he had ‘accidentally’ tripped this Gryffindor boy and got Snape to take away house points from him that he thought for sure would you make laugh or perhaps give him a disapproving redirection, but when he glanced up to see your reaction, he noticed you weren’t even listening, to begin with. You had been staring down at your shoes and the way they lined up against the cracks in the pavement, kicking around some gravel as your mind was running a million thoughts per second.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, e/c eyes widened slightly from being ripped away from your thoughts suddenly. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nodded warmly. “I’m okay, Dray. I’m honestly just tired.”

And you were telling the truth, in a sense. You really were tired; physically, mentally, emotionally.

He frowned, dissatisfied with your answer. “Right, well if anything at all comes up, I’m here.”

From then on, Draco took it upon himself to try and increase his affections and compliments. He would hug you a little tighter, kiss you a little longer, whisper sweet little nothings into your ear before he left you for class. You felt a little bad lying to him, withholding the truth from him, and you saw the concern in his light gray’s when you’d meet him in the mornings and for the rest of the day, but it only made you feel a tad bit worse. You were starting to feel guilty for the way he was worrying, feeling like you were dragging him down into the dumps with you and raining on his usual carefree parades.

On Friday morning, you didn’t meet him for breakfast and you were out of the Great Hall faster than he could catch you. He felt like a stalker when he walked by your class, peeking his head in to see if you were there and well. He spotted you sitting at your desk, hunched over your unopened books with a grimace on your face and your head in your hands. He wanted to go in and whisk you away to somewhere far and quiet, but the Professor had caught him by the door and sent him on his way before he could even think of doing anything of the sort.

You felt the day had gone by extremely slow, relative to how the week was moving and also impossibly dismal. You were counting down the minutes until the end of the school day, ready to run to your dorm right after your last class and bury yourself deep into your duvet and pillows for the rest of the weekend.

Head still pounding, you trudged over to your final class, stopping outside the doors when you saw a small group of your housemates standing around with unnerved expressions as they passed each other papers and spoke in hushed tensed tones.

“I studied all night but my friend took the test earlier and she told me during lunch that it had stuff on it that wasn’t even in the reading!” You heard one exclaim in distress.

“We have a test?” You accidentally said aloud and a pair of eyes turned to look at you confusingly.

“Yeah? Professor’s been telling us all week.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped your lips, an overwhelming sense of defeat washing over you as you turned briskly on your heel and in the opposite direction of your classroom. Tears started pricking at your eyes, you felt the stinging of them wanting to be released but you refused to let them all out in the open and especially in front of people who were still taking their time to head to their classes.

You were making a beeline towards your common room, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision that was quickly pooling with unshed tears while trying to steady your breathing in another failed attempt to calm yourself. You were nearly there, you could tell by the paintings and doors that you passed by and the black stain splattered on the floor you saw every day on your way to the dorms from someone’s dropped ink bottle that Filch hasn’t been able to get rid of.

Almost there, you kept repeatedly reminding yourself.

All hope of solace was gone when you didn’t notice the body you had unknowingly crashed into. All you felt were strong hands around your biceps, holding you in place from toppling backward and the very familiar scent of expensive cologne and mint.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you in class?” You looked up at the platinum blond sadly, his worried eyes searching yours with such care that it pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t answer him and instead wrapped your arms tightly around Draco’s middle, burying your face deep into his robes and letting out quiet and frail weeps that broke his heart. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to the top of your head and muttering soft “I’m here’s” into your hair. You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting your tears freely fall into his vest with a sense of relief that only he was able to give you at this point in time.

“I’m sorry I cried on you,” you choked out when you pulled away from him, desperately wiping away at your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” he said quickly. He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb swiping delicately over a stray tear that was sitting on your jaw while you closed your eyes in comfort. “Do you want to go back to my room? I can set you up really nicely and we can talk if you’d like?”

“Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

Draco interlocked your fingers with his, bringing the pair up to his lips with a warm kiss on the back of your hand before walking the two of you over to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was empty when you walked in, not a soul in sight since everyone was still in class and it made it much easier for him to sneak you into his singular Prefect room you were now extremely grateful he had. He watched contently when you shed off your robes and kicked off your shoes and immediately slipped into one of his dark green jumpers that fit you big.

You were perched on the edge of his bed, his scent from his sweater engulfing you and doing a much better job of calming you down than you wanted to admit. He followed in your footsteps and changed into something comfier and when he finally sat beside you with his hand falling over yours as an encouragement to talk - you did. You vented to him all about the letter from home, the migraine, your classes, the argument between you and your friend, and everything else that came to mind.

“And I feel bad for ignoring you and not telling you all this before but I didn’t want to burden you,” you finished with sniffles, gazing up at him with a gloomy expression.

“Y/N, I love you, and nothing you say to me is a burden,” he frowned slightly, “when I tell you I’m here, I mean it, for anything. You’re so important to me and it kills me to see you upset.”

In a careful movement, he had scooted towards you and affectionately cupped your face before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and murmured to you, “don’t ever hesitate to come to me.”

You let him pull you under his covers, draping his large duvet over your entangled bodies with your head resting right above his chest, the steady beatings of his heart instantly sending you into a much-needed peace. His chin was rested right atop your head and you felt his fingers run up and down your arm soothingly while he thought.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” He asked quietly.

“Can you help me fall asleep?” you muttered, closing your eyes gently when his hand smoothed over the back of your hair. You felt him nod against your head and after a small moment silence, you heard him begin to hum the faint tune of your favorite song.

You lied there in bliss, enjoying the way his chest was vibrating against your ear and the way his fingers were playing with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around his fingers and then moving upwards to massage your scalp. And for a minute, everything was finally okay again as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a full heart and with your love calmly lulling you away with a soft and now distant humming.

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hollyethecurious · 3 years

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CS AU: The Duke and His Swan (5/5)

Summary: Dearest Reader, the ton is abuzz with speculation that the new Duke of Ironhook will be remaining in town for the duration of the Season. Second born of the illustrious Jones family, Killian Jones has quite the legacy to live up to now he has inherited the dukedom from his late elder brother. Also entering Society for her first season is Miss Emma Swan, ward to the Viscount Nolan’s family. Gifted with a respectable dowry, Miss Swan’s financial worth and uncommon good looks will surely make up for her rumored prickly disposition in the eye of more than one fortune seeking suitor. Stay tuned, Dear Reader, for this author has it on good authority His Grace and Miss Swan shall cause quite a sensation, perhaps even resulting in… scandal!

A/N: Sorry I didn’t post a sneak peek this week! I know I promised I would, but when it came down to it everything seemed too spoilery. I hope posting early will make up for it, though! With all the Memorial Day events we have planned tomorrow, I wanted to make sure the final installment got posted sooner rather than later.

Thank you all for coming on this journey with me. I SO appreciate all the reblogs, comments, likes, kudos, and reviews. Thanks so much!!

Much love to @artistic-writer for the gorgeous pic set she created to accompany this fic, and a thousand rainbow hearts and unicorn stickers to @kmomof4 and @ilovemesomekillianjones for being my cheerleader and beta, respectively. Love you ladies to bits!!

Rated M for language and smut / Available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

Part Five

What a whirlwind of a week, Dear Readers. One filled with tantalizing tales that I, Lady Priscilla Candlewyck, promise to convey to you even as they continue to unfold within the ton.

First, it seems Mr. Neal Cassidy has found himself no longer in possession of a membership at Aesop’s. While speculation runs rampant, I can tell you his honor has been called into question. It seems he owes vast sums to a number of debtors, a problem he likely sought to solve by marrying an heiress, which would explain his relentless pursuit of a certain Duke’s Swan. While such circumstance is not unheard of within the ton, it appears that is only the beginning of Mr. Cassidy’s misfortunes. This Author has heard it rumored the man recently engaged in an act of such cowardice and despicable character, he is no longer welcome in any respectable home or business and is, at this very moment, embarking on an extended journey abroad where we can only hope he will have the good sense to remain in exile.

But let us not dwell on these unpleasant topics, Dear Reader, for there is reason to rejoice! Like many of you, I confess a most undignified sound of pure elation escaped me when I read the Pronouncement of Engagement between Miss Emma Swan and The Duke of Ironhook in yesterday’s evening paper. I must tell you, though, Faithful Reader, that is not the most exciting and intriguing bit of news regarding the Duke and his Swan. For by the time you read this, the two will have found themselves, not simply intended for one another, but pronounced husband and wife! At this very moment, they are likely on their way to the Duke’s country estate to begin their honeymoon, and I am sure you will join me in wishing them every happiness and satisfaction in their wedded bliss.

~/~

A warm, orange glow filled the cab of the Duke’s carriage as it gently rocked and swayed the two inhabitants sitting in quiet resolve within. Other than when they’d exchanged their vows earlier that morning, Emma and the Duke had not said much to one another. Pleasantries mostly. Expected and necessary comments of polite and proper discourse as they entertained the few guests invited to the ceremony and modest reception. Overly civil and formal exchanges when they’d stopped for dinner on the road. Emma thought she might go mad from the silence, but was at a loss of how to break it without causing greater damage to their already fractured existence.

Silhouettes of towering trunks flickered past the carriage window, alerting Emma to the change of scenery. Killian had told her his lands lay just beyond a forest where the occasional vagrant or bandit would attempt to waylay coaches at night, thus their need to leave out from the city by midday so they could reach the estate by nightfall. She supposed he did not relish having to spend their wedding night at a roadside inn, and was quite frankly glad of that.

Nerves fluttered through her chest and down into her stomach at the prospect of what awaited her once they reached the estate. Churnings of both apprehension and anticipation had made it difficult for her to consume much of anything that day, and with the sun’s descent towards the horizon and the pace of the carriage seemingly increasing in speed, her heart soon matched their swiftness with its strumming beats racing beneath her breast.

Perhaps sensing the mounting tension permeating the cab from her attempts to quell her thoughts regarding their wedding night, Killian shifted in his seat and finally broke the silence hanging heavily between them.

“Not much farther now.” His own gaze was fixed on the blur of trees sweeping past. “I sent word yesterday to the housekeeper, Mrs. Tremaine, that a formal welcome and introduction of the staff can wait until tomorrow. I imagined you’d be tired upon our arrival and would wish to be shown to your room so you might turn in for the night.”

Emma’s head snapped toward his, her brow creased in confusion as she questioned, “My room?”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed and his eyes remained focused on the landscape which had begun to change back into golden fields as they left the shadows of the forest. “Aye. It is customary for the Duchess to have her own chambers, and I would not presume to expect duties from you until--”

“But I am perfectly prepared to meet those expectations,” Emma assured him. His eyes fell shut and a heavy exhale shuddered from his chest, prompting her to reach forward and place her hand over his, balled up into a fist atop his thigh. “Killian,” she said softly. “I know you do not love me, that this is a marriage born of duty and not something you truly wanted, but I am determined to make the best of our situation. I know what is expected of me, what is required of us, in order to secure the future of the Ironhook name. You need an heir, and there is only one way for us to produce one. I may not have been your first choice as Duchess, just as being a wife and mother was not something I had ever anticipated wanting, but we both must find a way to compromise the expectations we had for our lives and make the best of the one we find ourselves forever joined in.”

Squeezing his hand tighter, she looked at him pleadingly, needing him to meet her halfway in this commitment and the forgiveness she desperately sought from him while wishing to impart her own absolution for the part he played in their current predicament. The desire to confess the fullness of her heart to him remained firmly planted on her tongue. She was certain he felt trapped enough as it was, and did not wish to add to the burden of his responsibility to her by making him feel as though he must reciprocate the love she held for him. Perhaps, if she were truly fortunate, he would come to love her with time.

“You think I…” Killian’s words, even as they trailed off, pulled her attention back to him. She flinched back when he raised his other fist and pounded on the wall behind him, the one that separated the cab from the driver. The carriage slowed to a stop, and before Emma could pose an inquiry as to why, Killian stepped out and demanded the reins from the coachman.

Emma jostled when the wheels began to turn once more, her hands gripping the bottom of the window as she peered out to see where Killian was taking them. They had not traveled far when a lane appeared on their right, its destination leading to a grand manor house Emma could barely make out in the waning light of the day. After coming to a stop once more, Killian alighted from the driver’s seat and opened the carriage door, assisting her from the cab with an expression full of trepidation.

“Where… Where are we?” Emma asked, taking in the vast house and sweeping lawns. “What is this place?”

“This,” Killian said, leading her away from the carriage and to a better vantage point where she could appreciate the manor and all its amenities better, “is my wedding gift to you.”

“What?”

“I was planning to show it to you tomorrow, but after all you said in the carriage, I knew it could not wait until then.”

“I do not understand,” Emma replied, casting her perplexed expression upon him. “My wedding gift? Why would I have need of--”

“The east wing would be an ideal place to keep the orphaned children. It has multiple levels of rooms so you could have a floor for boys and one for girls.” He stretched out his arm and gestured towards the other side of the manor, suggesting, “I thought the west wing might serve as a place where you could house women who find themselves in similar circumstances as your mother had. Provide them with a safe place where they can bring their baby into the world with dignity, giving them options on what they think might be the best chance for them and their child. Whether it’s leaving them in your care here at the orphanage, or perhaps making a fresh start with a proper reference from a Duchess, no less.”

Words caught in Emma’s throat, impeding her ability to draw in a full breath. When she did not respond to his vision for what he’d had in mind with his wedding gift, he stepped before her, taking her hands in his own, and ran his thumbs soothingly along the backs of her knuckles.

“I told your brother to put your dowry in trust, so you might use it as you see fit,” he told her in a hushed and gentle tone. “And as you’ll see, the manor is only a short distance from our estate, making it convenient for you to be as hands on with the orphanage as you wish to be.”

“I don’t… how did you… is this manor not part of your--”

“It used to be August’s,” he confided. “It belonged to his mother’s side of the family, but he lost it gambling many years ago.”

“To you?”

“No,” he replied with a soft smile. “To a man who passed on some time ago, and through whose solicitor I acquired it the day before yesterday.”

“The day before…” Emma’s breath caught at the earnest look in Killian’s eyes, the way he waited for the full measure of understanding to settle over her as she parsed. “Before the Camelot Ball? Before we… before the gardens and our… before Mr. Cassidy witnessed us and you… before--”

Her words cut off when Killian leaned in and rested his forehead against her. “Aye,” he breathed. “Before all of that.”

“Why?”

His tongue darted out and wet his lips, his eyelids fluttering closed as his chest labored from a fortifying breath. “Because, love. This is your heart’s desire.” Opening once more, Emma felt herself getting lost in his forget-me-not depths as he continued to profess things she never found herself brave enough to dream he’d say to her. “I promise that’s all I want you to have. I did not want you to compromise anything of your wants and desires to be my wife, and had hoped, once I had a chance to convey that to you, it would have been enough to convince you to say yes.”

“Say yes?” Emma parroted breathlessly. “You mean… you already had intentions of proposing?”

“Of course I did, Swan,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her lips as darkness enveloped them. “I love you.”

His hands released hers in favor of holding her face within their gentle grasp. His eyes bounced between hers as he unburdened himself of all the things she imagined he’d been holding back from declaring, afraid of the weight such proclamations might add to her perceived disappointment in being forced to marry, just as she had refrained from expressing similar sentiments to him.

“I love you, and there is nothing I will not do to ensure your happiness in the hopes that one day you might return my love.”

Emma opened her mouth, but her response stuck in the back of her throat, overcome by the emotion welling up from within.

“I will not deny my desire for children, but the legacy of an heir can wait until such a time you are ready. Indeed, I am willing to wait in regards to all aspects of our marital bed until you are comfortable with the notion, despite how much I want you.”

His jaw tightened, the muscle above flickering in time with her pulse as his words, the veracity of which she could see swirling in his darkened gaze, sent her own longings thundering through her veins. Dusk had begun to cast its nightly spell, leaving the air around them charged with wistful promises of possibilities long yearned for. Possibilities Emma determined to take hold of, not wishing to let another moment go by where doubt or misconstrued intentions might rob them of the happiness they had already delayed with their foolish presumptions.

Surging upward onto her toes, Emma fused her lips to Killian’s. After a moment’s pause, getting over the shock of her unexpected action, he slipped a hand to the back of her neck and tentatively returned the kiss. It occurred to Emma she had said nothing since his declaration, and while clearly not opposed to what she had hoped to convey with her kiss, Killian had always been a man of words and, therefore, would need the assurance of hers before he would allow himself to read too much into her actions.

“Take me home, Killian,” she breathed against his lips. “Take me to our bed. Make me your wife.”

His fingers dug into the back of her neck, his grip tightening there and at her waist where his other hand had settled. “Are you sure, love?”

“As sure as I am of my love for you.”

He pulled back slightly, eyes searching hers as an expression of reserved hopefulness swept over his features. “What?”

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Emma raised herself up a bit higher on her toes so she could press her forehead to his. “I love you, Killian. I love you, and I… want you, too. So, please, Your Grace. Take me home.”

An audible gasp, tinted with laughter and surprise, rushed over her lips when Killian bent down and lifted her into his arms, marching a quick path back towards their carriage with a growling, As you wish… Your Grace, rumbling from his chest.

~/~

Emma’s lips tingled and her skin was flushed from the simmering heat coursing through her veins. Mindful to not put any extra sway in the carriage during the short ride to the estate, Killian had tried to keep their interactions somewhat chaste, but by the time they rolled up the long drive leading to the grand house, Emma had found herself on his lap making a right mess of his hair as he plundered every bit of exposed skin his lips could reach. The heat at her cheeks intensified when she took in Killian’s disheveled appearance as they entered the house and greeted the Housekeeper and Butler, imagining she likely looked in quite a state as well and hoping they wouldn’t judge her too critically.

“No need, Mrs. Tremaine,” Killian waved off the woman’s offer to help the Duchess get settled in. “I’ll see to my wife’s needs this evening.” Placing his hand to the small of her back, he steered Emma towards the grand staircase and murmured huskily in her ear, “Each and every need, even if it takes until dawn.”

A shudder of wonder ran down her spine and anticipation fluttered through her chest and low in her belly. How she managed to make it up all those stairs with her legs wobbling, she’d never know, but their tremble was nothing in comparison to the quiver taking hold of her entire body now that she was alone with Killian in his - their - bedroom.

“Are you still certain, love? I can show you to your room if you’d rather--”

“No!” Emma protested, perhaps a bit too vehemently. Her brazen insistence and his amused expression made her blush once more. “That is… I’m sure.”

“Good,” he murmured, stepping closer with a confident swagger. His eyes swept over her with a predatory hunger, making her feel like a hare caught in a wolf’s sights. “Turn around,” he commanded, softly but firmly.

It did not even occur to her to inquire the reason as she immediately obeyed, turning her back to him with the soft crackle of the fireplace attempting to combat the shiver that skittered over her arms in the wake of Killian’s fingertips. Without a single word spoken between them, he meticulously and reverently removed each of her garments. His deft fingers made short work of the closures at the back of her traveling gown and his determined tugs at her laces divested her of her corset in record time. All that was left was her underskirt, but he seemed in no rush to add it to the pool of fabric at her feet just yet, too intent on trailing his lips, teeth, and tongue over the slopes of her shoulders and down her spine, making the fine hairs of her body raise to attention as she fought to keep air in her lungs.

“Positively stunning you are, love,” Killian whispered into her skin, his hot breath rippling over her hip as he placed another kiss above the fastening of her underskirt. “Perfection.”

He popped the button out of its closure then followed the material as it slipped down her legs, the rough calluses on his hands contrasting with the soft texture of the linen as both brushed her skin with a feather light touch. Her flesh broke out in hot waves of prickled goosebumps when he stood behind her, his hands continuing to map the lines and curves of her body. When he turned her back around to face him, she thought she might combust from the desire burning in his eyes and the way his gaze traveled over her breasts.

“You’ve no idea how long I have wanted to see you like this, my darling,” he said, something strained and barely controlled tightening his tone. “I’m going to touch you now, and you let me know if there is anything that isn’t to your liking when I do.”

Emma’s breath caught at the sensation of his touch, running the backs of his fingers along her collarbones then over the swell of breasts. He palmed one breast, kneading it in his hand as his mouth followed the path his fingers had tread, his tongue circling the outer edges of her nipple before he slipped it between his teeth. Certain this time that her legs would fail her, Emma gripped Killian’s arms in an effort to support herself, but the action caused him to rear back, a pained hiss falling from his lips.

“Killian, what…” Her eyes widened with realization when she saw him place his hand over the upper part of his bicep. Gasping, she recalled, “Your wound! Oh, Your Grace, I am so sorry.”

“It’s nothing, Swan,” he assured her with a small vestige of a grimace marring his features. “As the doctor said, I was fortunate, and so long as we are mindful of it, my injury will not detract from the enjoyable activities I have planned for us this evening.”

The image of him hurt and bleeding in that field sprang to mind, and the accompanying emotions of terror, rage, and guilt threatened to consume her once again as they had yesterday morning when she had nearly put a bullet in Neal Cassidy for his treachery.

“Hey, no,” he soothed, cupping her face in his hands. “I will not allow him, or anything else, to cast a pall upon this night.” Resting his forehead against hers, he breathed, “Just you and me, love. Tonight, it is just you and me.”

“You and me,” she echoed back, letting the soft caress of his thumbs over the apples of her cheeks bring her back to the sensations of the moment. Like the pleasant heat of the fire playing against the coolness of the room, and the way her skin came alive at the reminder she had not a stitch of clothing on while Killian was still fully dressed.

Running her hands up his chest, she slipped them beneath the lapels of his coat and carefully guided it over his shoulders and down his arms. He watched her, his gaze intently focused on her face, searching for any trace of hesitancy or uncertainty as she undid the buttons of his waistcoat then moved to the ones at his shirt. When both garments landed on the floor next to his coat, he reached down and grasped the backs of her thighs, lifting her into his arms before she could set work upon his trousers.

Impatient sounds reverberated through Killian’s chest as he laid her atop their bed, his lips desperate in their need to pay homage to every inch of her skin. Emma’s back arched, her hands balling the bed coverings in her fists as he licked and nipped and kissed his way down her body. The tip of his nose trailed from her knee along the inside of her thigh, a silent command that she open herself up to him asserted on the hot breath drifting towards her apex ahead of his mouth.

“Relax, darling,” he imparted, spreading her legs wider as he settled between them. “Lie back and let me taste you.”

When the rough, heated texture of his tongue met the soft dampness of her sex Emma nearly dissolved within the mattress. Head thrown back and eyes clamped shut, she gave herself over to the depraved way Killian was devouring her and all the previously forbidden desires his actions were releasing within her. Sounds she never would have thought herself capable of echoed through the room as her body began to move wantonly in response to each flick and flutter of his wicked tongue, but those utterances and gyrations were nothing in comparison to how she reacted when he slipped a finger into her center, curling it along the inside of her walls before removing it and then thrusting it, and a second, back in again.

“Oh, God! Killian!” she panted, on the verge of begging him to stop, though she felt as though she might die if he did.

While her mind warred with her desires, her body knew full well what it wanted, continuing to chase the release as her hips desperately ground against his mouth. A series of vibrations tormented the sensitive bundle he was currently lavishing his attentions on, hums of appreciation and encouragement from his lips while his free hand skimmed up the heated flesh of her form until it found her breast and squeezed it tightly before rolling her nipple between his fingers.

White spots of dazzling stars exploded behind her eyelids, and a tidal wave of pure pleasure washed over her in waves of relief as an icy fire rippled over her skin in the wake of its ebbing. Her chest heaved, her panting a faint rhythm against the thundering of her blood in her ears. Small tremors coursed their way through her body as Killian finished his ministrations, leaving her one last kiss amid the soft curls above her sex.

She scarcely felt the mattress move when Killian climbed off of it, but his absence forced her eyes open in search of him. He hadn’t gone far, standing beside their bed with his lust filled and hooded gaze raking over her, a shimmer of her essence still clinging to his chin.

He hummed decadently when his tongue swept over his lips. “You have a beautiful taste, my love.”

A fresh swell of desire prickled her skin, flushing her a deeper shade of pink and reawakening the ache between her thighs. When his hands began to work the fastening of his trousers, her gaze remained fixed, her breath coming in labored pants of anticipation laced with apprehension over that which was about to be revealed. The sight of him, rigid and proud and much larger than she had expected made her throat go dry, making it nearly impossible to swallow her surge of panic.

“Don’t be afraid,” Killian murmured in a half plea, half directive tone.

“Isn’t it meant to… hurt, though?”

Crawling back onto the bed, he positioned himself atop her, his hips settling into the space between her still splayed thighs with his weight braced on his forearms, his hand caressing the side of her face. “I would never intentionally cause you pain, love,” he promised. “The initial sensation will feel foreign, like an intrusion, and perhaps be a tad uncomfortable until your body has become accustomed to mine, but once that has passed-” he rolled his hips, allowing his member to slip between her folds and make contact with the pleasure point that had once again begun to throb, pulling a moan from her as rapture ran up her spine. “-all you’ll feel is my love for you. Filling you.” Another tormenting thrust brushed against her, causing her back to leave the mattress. “Worshipping you.” His mouth latched onto her breast, pushed upward from the arch of her back and another wanton sound fell from her lips as he sucked hard on her painfully erect nipple before releasing it with an indecent pop to darkly impart, “Giving you everything you need until these trepidations you feel are a distant memory.”

“What trepidations?” Emma groaned, bucking her hips against his, no longer feeling anything but a fierce desire to be filled and worshiped and given everything he had to offer, just as he’d promised.

He chuckled and shifted his hips. “That’s my fierce lass.”

Reaching down, he lined himself up with her entrance, his eyes never wavering from hers as he pushed inside ever so slightly. At the first hint of her body’s reluctance he withdrew, repeating the languid actions of gliding his length through her slick sex and taunting her bud before attempting his advance once more. It did feel like an intrusion at first, but the mixture of delightful bombardments he was assaulting her with - from the press of his lips slanting against hers, to the touch of his hand now applying pressure to that wondrous place between her legs, to the feel of his cock stretching her in a way that burned with exquisite agony - had her relaxing her guard and welcoming him fully into herself after a few deliberately controlled thrusts.

“Bloody hell, Emma. I’ve never experienced anything as luxurious as the feel of you.” His forehead pressed against hers, damp from the exertion of keeping a tight command upon himself, the strain of which crept into his voice when he told her. “I have to move. Have to feel your walls sliding against my cock. Feel the way you cling to me each time I thrust into your depths. Making you mine as you claim me as yours.”

“Yes!” Emma exclaimed, her nails clawing at his back with each change of pace and rhythm his hips orchestrated.

The scratch of his chest hair against her nipples, the burn of his beard rubbing against her cheek, the grip of his hand on hers, fingers tightly woven together above her head as the snap of his hips jarred her body with fresh pleasures, and his words uttered all the devotion and depravity he wanted her to have from him had her instinctively hitching her legs higher against his waist. The slight change in position unlocked a new trove of unexpected pleasure, shockwaves of bliss bursting up her spine each time his length met the spot she knew would send her over the edge once more.

“There,” she exhaled, not sure her breath had been strong enough to carry the clarity of the word to his ears with his own pants and vocalized breaths ringing in her own. “Right there,” she repeated. Pulling her hands free of his, she grasped his backside and held tight, her nails digging into the firm flesh, causing his rhythm to stutter.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “Please, Your Grace! Don’t stop!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it… Your Grace,” he growled teasingly, his hips pistoning with renewed vigor, making her body stiffen as the final elements of her release gathered at the base of her spine. “That’s it, love,” Killian praised, feeling her walls clamped down around him. “Take your pleasure.”

He was relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from her as she felt that same current of pure satisfaction sweep her away within a riptide of euphoria.

“Gods above, Emma,” Killian cried out with a jerk of hips, his length pulsing in her depths, spilling his seed into her as she continued to convulse around him.

With a grunt of exhaustion, Killian collapsed beside her, his hand covering his face as his chest, like hers, fought to find breath.

“That was…” Emma began, not sure how to even begin putting the experience into words.

“A one time thing,” Killian muttered, his tone professing the self-reproach he was inexplicably feeling.

Emma’s heart clenched and her stomach fell away at the thought she had somehow disappointed him, but before the feeling of despair could take root, Killian seemed to realize how his words might have affected her.

Rolling over, he gathered her in his arms, face cupped in his large hand with nothing but love and apology swirling in his eyes. “I meant, my finishing inside you, Swan. I shouldn’t have done that. An heir can wait until after you’ve established your orphanage. I don’t want you becoming pregnant to be an obstacle towards your heart desire. I never meant to--”

Emma cut him off with the press of her mouth, unwilling to relent in her assault against his kiss swollen lips until he was thoroughly distracted from the train of thought he’d allowed himself to traverse.

“You are my heart’s desire, Your Grace.” She brushed the fringe of his hair off his forehead and swept her hand through his riotous strands until her fingers curled around the back of his neck. “You. Killian Jones. The Duke of Ironhook. My husband.” A wide grin broke across his face at her use of that particular moniker. “You are my heart’s desire. You and our future together, whatever that entails, is all I will ever desire. Do you understand me, Your Grace?”

“Aye, love,” he replied with a soft, contented smile. “I understand you perfectly.” Pulling her in tighter, he placed a kiss at her temple and tucked her against his chest. “Because you are, always have been, and always will be, my heart’s desire as well.”

~/~

The ballroom was buzzing with a pleasant murmur of the Duke and Duchess’ friends and family, gathered to celebrate the end of The Season, the arrival of the Nolan heir, and the upcoming nuptials of those among their circle who had found their own match. Killian sipped his champagne from a quiet corner, amusing himself with the way his and Emma’s worlds were colliding right here in their home.

Lord Nolan balked and hovered nervously as his wife handed off their fussing son and heir to Jefferson, who had always had a way with children, able to calm them despite the chaotic nature many within the ton associated with him. Once The Viscount seemed convinced his son was indeed in good hands as Lady Nolan and Jefferson jointly cooed over the quieting infant, Nolan turned back to the conversation he’d been engaged in with Robin, though Killian could not fathom what commonality the two men had found to discuss.

A smile quirked Killian’s lip when he moved his attention to Will, stammering hopelessly as he tried to converse with Miss French, who had been shocked to receive their invitation, given the scandal that had erupted around her after he and Emma had wed and left town.

It seemed her father had lost everything in a series of bad investments and had hoped to marry her off to Gold before the truth was revealed. Fortunately for Miss French - at least, Killian believed her to be most fortunate anyway - the news of Maurice's dire straits broke within Candlewyck’s pages before a contract of betrothal could be drawn up. Unfortunately, it also meant Miss French’s prospects had plummeted, but given the way she seemed receptive to Will’s clearly smitten advances, perhaps things might turn out well for her after all.

A booming laugh pulled his focus towards Nemo, assembled in a group that included Lord Huntsman, Miss Lucas, and the Widow Lucas. No doubt Granny had made one of her off-color remarks, catching Nemo by surprise and thus eliciting such a guffaw it had pulled everyone’s attention to the furiously blushing young couple who were mere weeks away from their wedding and the start of their own happily ever after. The thought of happily ever afters had him instinctively scanning the room for his Swan, his breath catching like it always did at the sight of her bright smile and glittering emerald eyes.

Over the past several weeks, he and his Duchess had revelled in the joys and delights of their honeymoon, exploring every inch of the other’s body while christening a number of the estate’s rooms and various locations upon the grounds. He’d dismissed the staff from the dining room one morning before breakfast, electing to feast upon his wife, splayed out across the dining table, rather than the fare the kitchens had provided. They’d made love on the sprawling grounds of the estate numerous times, even got caught in the rain once and ended up fucking in one of the garden pavilions in which they’d taken shelter.

The memory of his wife’s wet, naked body bent over in front of him as he pounded into her like the deluge had against the stone structure had him stirring to attention. As did the memory of her on her knees beneath his desk in his office one afternoon, taking him into her mouth for the first time; a result of her curiosity and a challenge he’d issued, knowing she would never back down from it and just needed an excuse so she could do the thing she had not been bold enough yet to initiate with him.

Then there was the library, the grand staircase, and the random closet they’d ducked into when things had turned heated in a hallway and a maid was about to happen upon them, all locations they’d left well used, though not by their intended purposes.

Downing the remainder of his champagne, Killian cleared his throat and took a moment to collect himself. He needed to rejoin the party and interact with his guests or else he’d find himself dragging his wife away in search of some new corner of his estate to take her in.

With a slightly stiff gait, he made his way towards the object of his desire. Like a moth to a flame, he was playing with fire by going to Emma while his blood still ran hot in his veins, burning for her, but there was nowhere else he’d rather be than by her side. Thankfully, the conversation she was currently occupied in with August had more of an affect on his heart than his groin.

“Mr. Hopper believes we can begin hiring the rest of the staff now that renovations to the manor are well on their way. We hope to be able to care for children and wayward mothers by the first of the year.”

“It’s a remarkable thing you’re doing, Your Grace,” August praised.

Killian well recognized the look of admiration and awe within the man’s eyes, it was a common expression people wore when his Swan told them of her plan and how much she had accomplished towards her goal of opening an orphanage thus far. In fact, he was certain he’d worn it many times himself.

“My mother and father would be thrilled with what you are doing with the manor. Especially my mother. The place meant so much to her,” he said in a tone faintly tinted with remorse and contrition.

Emma gave August a warm and understanding smile, then started to ask him something, but was interrupted by Jefferson coming up behind August and wrapping his arms around his waist before setting his chin upon his shoulder.

“Are you ready to turn in, darling? We have to depart rather early tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry you both can’t stay longer,” Emma said, and it warmed Killian’s heart to know she absolutely meant it, despite the nature of their relationship which others would have severely condemned them for.

“Me too,” Jefferson lamented. “Priscilla always loved this part of the countryside and I haven’t been in this part of the realm in many years. Perhaps I could bring Grace with me next time? She’d love it here, too.”

“Priscilla?”

“My late wife,” Jefferson informed her. “Grace’s mother.”

“I see.” Emma nodded. “Of course you can bring Grace with you next time. You are all very welcome here any time.”

“Well…” Killian drawled, reaching up to scratch behind his ear as he gave the men a significant look beneath his pointedly raised brows. “Perhaps not any time.”

“Point taken,” August replied on a laugh, taking hold of Jefferson’s hand and bidding them goodnight.

“Oh! My Lord Booth,” Emma said before they could go too far. “I meant to ask you something about the manor.”

“I’m happy to answer any question you have, if I can.”

“On the official papers, the manor has a name. I haven’t found anyone who is familiar enough with the tongue of the land your mother was from in order to pronounce it, much less translate it. Do you know how to say it and it’s meaning?”

“Lucignolo?”

“Yes, that’s it!”

August’s eyes slid slyly towards Jefferson, the two of them sharing a conspiratorial look before the man confessed…

“It was actually my mother’s maiden name, and in Misthavenian, it means… Candlewyck.”

The Duke and his swan’s mouths dropped open and their gazes bounced, first to Jefferson - Priscilla… my late wife - and then to August - Lucignolo?... it means… Candlewyck, then uttered in perfect unison, “Bloody Hell,” as the two men held their fingers up to their lips and implored them to remain silent with a soft shushing sound before linking arms and strolling from the ballroom with self-satisfied smiles plastered to their faces.

The End

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#cs ff #csff #cs fic #cs au #captain swan #cs bridgerton au #cs regency au #duke!killian #lady!emma #the duke and his swan #words by hollye

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ragewerthers · 5 years

Text

Take My Hand

Summary: Kuroo has a song stuck in his head. Or to be more precise, Daichi seems to have a song stuck in his head and Kuroo finds himself absolutely addicted to it. What does it mean? And what could it lead to?

A/n: This is for Kurodai Mid-Birthday Week 2019! I went with the song inspired prompt and it took me almost til the end of the fic to figure out which song I wanted, haha!

It is ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love With You- by Elvis Presley’. It’s an oldie but a goodie! :D

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21741760

Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 2227

————————-

“Hmm… hmmmm… hmmmmmmmm…,”

“Daichi?”

“Hmmhmm… hmmmhmmmm… hmmmmm…,”

“Sa’amura?”

Kuroo peeked his head around the corner of their shared apartment, glancing at his roommate who seemed to be lost in his own little world. He had to bite back a smile as he saw the way the former Karasuno captain continued to hum from his spot in front of the kitchen counter. Swaying back and forth as he mixed together something for dinner he seemed to have lost himself completely to a song in his head.

They had been living off campus for awhile now. It had seemed like a good idea. Both were still getting their feet under them and renting an apartment together and sharing expenses would definitely make things easier. Not to mention they knew one another from high school and a friendship had definitely grown from their rivalry all those years ago. Daichi was a bit more serious than Kuroo and helped to ground him a bit. Kuroo was bit more outgoing and helped to pull Sawamura from his shell. Their cohabitation was definitely beneficial to both parties, but Kuroo did wish that he’d had an inkling of what was going to happen so he could’ve prepared himself a bit more.

In their time living together they had grown used to each others little idiosyncrasies. This one in particular was one of Kuroo’s favorites not that he would ever say anything to Daichi. If he did, the man might stop altogether. There was just something so… endearing about catching the other man in these moments. He never sang… always just a little hummed song and only when he thought he was alone or he got caught up in a task.

However, it was always the same song.

It had started just a few weeks into them living together. Kuroo had been hidden away in his room attempting to get in some extra studying and before he’d known it the clock had read somewhere near one. Groaning he’d leaned back from his small desk, feeling his spine pop pleasantly and had decided to head into the kitchen to find a snack.

That was the first time he’d heard it.

Making his way quietly down the hallway he’d heard a quiet mumbling. No… not a mumble. A rumble? No. They hadn’t quite fit the sound either. As he drew closer to the little kitchen he’d noticed that a light had been left on and his brow furrowed. Quietly he’d glanced around the corner and seen Sawamura standing over by their small stove. He was stirring something in a saucepan that smelled suspiciously of chocolate, but what caught Kuroo’s attention more was that he finally registered the noise.

The man was humming.

It was quiet and soft, but a song nonetheless.

Kuroo felt something in his heart flutter as he heard it and he’d had to take a moment to find the breath he’d lost. Why had it effecting him so? He’d actually had to compose himself against the hallway wall before working up the nerve to make his entrance. Not wanting to startle the other he’d taken a deep breath and made his footsteps a little louder as he entered into the kitchen. As expected, the humming had instantly stopped, but Daichi didn’t look startled or embarrassed. Actually he’d turned his head and given Kuroo a little smile, making Kuroo wonder if he’d even known he’d been doing it in the first place.

“So… couldn’t sleep either?” Daichi had asked, opening one of their cupboards and pulling out another mug.

“No… studying got away from me… a bit… by three hours,” Kuroo had answered honestly, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish grin, still feeling the way his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“Well… lucky for you that I made a bit too much cocoa to help with my own sleeplessness. Here… I’ll pour you a cup as well.”

The warm feeling that infiltrated Kuroo’s chest upon hearing the soft humming only grew at the gesture. He’d happily accepted the drink and they’d spent another half hour chatting in the kitchen before they’d finally called it an evening when Daichi had almost nodded off at their kitchen table.

After that one evening, there had been a few more instances of Kuroo being caught off guard by that humming and each time his heart felt like it was going to flutter out of his chest.

It was around the fifth time that he realized that perhaps… possibly… he may be harboring a bit of a flame for the other man. There was no denying that when they were younger he’d had a crush on the guy. Who didn’t?! Or to be more specific… who couldn’t? He was strong, smart, charming… you’d have to be an idiot to not have had a crush on one Sawamura Daichi. However, Kuroo had simply pushed back his feelings. It was supposed to have been a highschool crush, nothing more. They were all getting ready to start their university careers and who would have time for something trivial like that? He’d been completely content to just continue a friendship nothing more.

But…

But….

Then he’d had to hear that soft, gentle humming that made his heart flutter, his stomach feel like there were butterflies inside and his knees feel like jelly… and now all those old feelings came rushing back like a tsunami.

And that had only been the start of his troubles. Ever since the realization had struck he’d found himself falling harder and harder for the man with each passing day. Did Daichi even realize what he was doing to him?!

Probably not. But every teasing comment, every home cooked meal, every time they shared a moment together only seemed to make the fondness in his heart grow for the former captain.

So… here he was, standing in the hallway, listening to Daichi humming that same song like always, his heart beating a mile a minute and savoring every second. He would happily stand there and listen to this song over and over again and to be fair… hadn’t he already been doing that? The only thing that ever bothered him… was that he had yet to be able to figure out what the song was.

How many times had he secretly heard it now? Fifteen? Fifty? Maybe somewhere in the middle, but each time he would go through the list of songs he knew and not once was he ever able to come up with the right tune or melody to match.

He’d even gone so far as to ask Bokuto and Kenma for help, but he himself had never really been able to carry a tune. When he’d tried to hum the song or sing it a bit, he’d gotten two different reactions.

Kenma had asked if he was being serious or if he was trying to purposefully sing off key.

Bokuto had laughed so hard he had literally cried, claiming that Kuroo sounded exactly like a cat yowling in an alleyway.

Needless to say he’d given up asking others for help after that.

Still, there was something kind of thrilling about it. A little mystery that Kuroo hoped to one day figure out or… that maybe one day Daichi would be willing to confide in him? But honestly, what were the chances of that? He didn’t know that Kuroo was harboring these feelings. Daichi probably had no idea that he hoped to one day have more than this friendship, but

“Wise men say… only fools rush in… But I can’t help… falling in love… with… you,”

Kuroo’s smile faltered as he heard the humming shift into Daichi’s smooth voice, though the other still kept his words soft. In an instant, the former Nekoma captains entire world focused completely onto that melody.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin? If I can’t help… falling in love… with… you.”

The words were so gentle that it made Kuroo’s heart ache as he listened to it. This was far more… personal than when he’d simply heard the melody hummed along in Daichi’s timbre. This… this was a song the man honestly felt.

But for who?

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea… darling so it goes… some things are meant to be.”

With every word, Kuroo found himself drawn more and more to Daichi. He needed to know just who was it that was making this… amazing man sing so openly from the heart? There was no way a song like this just gets stuck in a person’s head for weeks without there being a catalyst for it.

“Take my hand… take my whole life too. For I… can’t… help… falling in love… with… K-KUROO?!”

The spell was immediately broken as Kuroo realized that he hadn’t just been drawn to Daichi’s words on an emotional level. Apparently, much like a bed-headed moth to a flame, he’d made his way from his spot in the hallway to stand directly behind Daichi… managing to scare the hell out of the man and almost getting a wooden spoon to the face.

“Do I have to get a bell for you?! Oh my heart….,” Daichi panted, clutching his chest and trying to get his breath back. “Wh-what… are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”

Kuroo felt his ears heating up as he realized that he really, really didn’t have a good enough reason to be there. His original reason for even being in the hallway to begin with was completely lost to him so his mouth decided to try and help as his brain slowly short circuited.

“Who are you singing about?” he asked quietly, his brain finally kicking in to remind him that his mouth said stupid, stupid things when left to its own devices.

Daichi’s entire face turned a slightly unhealthy shade of crimson and he cleared his throat. “Oh… I… it was… I heard it on the radio today,” he said with a shrug, turning back to the food he’d been working on.

However, Kuroo found he really couldn’t let this go. Not now.

“If you just heard it today, Sa’amura… then why have you been humming it for weeks?” he asked, stepping a little closer to the man, enough to see that the crimson color was now moving to his ears.

“No I haven’t.”

“Yes you have.”

“Prove it.”

“What are you, five?”

Kuroo actually snorted as his own question was mimicked back at him in a very non-Daichi way. Apparently he’d already had an effect on the man from them living together… and he was starting to wonder if perhaps in more ways than he’d dared to hope if the blush was anything to go by.

“Actually. I can prove it,” he said with a wider smile, watching as Daichi turned to him with a narrowed expression.

“Is that right?” he asked, folding his arms over his broad chest and all but daring Kuroo to continue.

This only made Kuroo grin and he nodded. “I can prove it because I’ve been trying to figure out what this song is for just as long. Since I first heard you humming it when making cocoa. I’ve asked Kenma… hell I’ve even asked Bo! I can name each and every time I’ve heard it because… each time it has always made me stop… and made my heart feel like it was going to flutter out of my chest,” he admitted, watching the way Daichi’s eyes widened before he quickly ducked his head to look at the floor.

Kuroo’s own expression softened and he stepped closer, carefully reaching forward and taking Daichi’s hand in his.

“Y-You don’t have to… you don’t… if you don’t feel the same I understand… I…,” Daichi seemed to be floundering for words now, as if his darkest secret was finally being exposed and Kuroo would take it and crush it in his hands before him.

Kuroo couldn’t take that. Couldn’t take seeing and hearing that worry and fear and knew he had to make sure Daichi understood… really understood.

“T-Take… my hand. Take my whole life too…,” he began, his words slow and careful and the notes a little offkey. “For I… can’t… help. Falling in love… with… you.”

Daichi’s eyes instantly glanced up as he sang, his eyes wide as if trying to decide if this was real or not. But just as Kuroo was beginning to wonder if he’d misstepped he watched as a smile began to spread over Daichi’s face and the shorter man brought his free hand up to stifle a laugh.

It was Kuroo’s turn to feel his cheeks going red and he cleared his throat. “S-Sorry. I… I’m not very good at singing. Ask Bo! He almost passed out he laughed so hard when I tried to get his help figuring it ou-,” His words were cut off as soft lips pressed against his own.

He remained frozen in that moment as Daichi leaned back, a warm smile on his face that Kuroo vowed he’d always work to keep there.

“I don’t know what Bo’s talking about,” Daichi murmured softly, giving Kuroo’s fingers a soft squeeze in his own as the former Nekoma captain realized that this man held his heart utterly and completely. “You sounded perfect to me.”

#kurodai week 2019 #kurodai #Kuroo Tetsurou #sawamura daichi #fluff #nontickles #music inspired #I love this song #I love this pairing #my fics #Kurodaiweek #kurodaiweek2019

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duhragonball · 6 years

Text

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (88/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[25 May, 234 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

There was a killer on Planet Saiya, a cold-blooded murderer who hunted Saiyans with a lethal, fast-acting poison. Zatte had taken her wife's star-yacht, the Emerald Eye in search of a way to stop this assassin once and for all.

Like all Dorluns, Zatte was a survivalist, and so she took every possible precaution for her journey. In particular, there was the possibility that the killer might learn of her investigation and sneak aboard the ship to kill her before she could uncover the the truth. In fact, Zatte somewhat hoped this would happen, as her entire investigation had been bait for a trap. She had learned that the killer's poison was derived from proteins found in Dorlun blood. As a Dorlun herself, Zatte would be naturally immune to its effects, which gave her an edge against the killer in the event of a confrontation. The killer was almost certainly Dorlun as well, and while Zatte couldn't be certain what other tricks he might have up his sleeve, she was certain that she could overpower him physically. She was married to the Super Saiyan after all, and years of training with Luffa had made Zatte into quite possibly the strongest Dorlun alive.

So if the killer had stowed away on the ship, Zatte would be pleased, but that didn't mean she would make it easy for him. One hour after leaving the Saiya system, Zatte sealed off the bridge from the rest of the ship, and ordered the ship's computer to run continuous scans for life signs on all decks. An hour later, she programmed the computer to depressurize various sections of the ship, while flooding others with pure nitrogen gas.

Every Dorlun was born with a unique ability. Zatte could manipulate energy, which she generally used for the purpose of camouflaging herself. Bending light waves around her body would make her invisible to the naked eye, as well as devices that relied on electromagnetic radiation. She could also do something similar with her own life energy, enabling her to use her ki without being detected by ki sensitive adepts. Not even Luffa's sharp ki senses could overcome this ability, although Luffa's keen sense of smell was much harder to fool. Theoretically, Zatte could hide herself aboard a starship for several days without being noticed by anyone, but she still needed air, water, and food. Another Dorlun might use different abilities to hide, but the same basic necessities would have to be addressed. Zatte hoped that by controlling the life support system, she could seize the initiative. If there was a stowaway on board, he would need air, and he would have to go to the parts of the ship where Zatte wanted him to go.

If he made it onto the bridge unseen and unheard, he would still have to breathe, and the ship's computer could measure the oxygen consumption in the room. Zatte had programmed it to alert her if the oxygen usage increased enough to indicate the presence of a second life form, no matter how small. Periodically, she walked around the deck, firing a plasma pistol set to produce a wide-dispersal stun ray. She would shoot at every surface on the deck, just in case her enemy might have some way to get around her other safeguards.

"Be careful," she chuckled as she finished her latest sweep with the pistol. Those had been Luffa's last words to her before she departed Planet Saiya. It was sweet of her wife to show such concern, but it was a silly thing to ask of a Dorlun. It was another reminder that they were truly alien to one another. Their marriage hadn't always gone well, but considering the cultural gap between them, it was probably impressive that they'd made things work for as long as they had.

She sat down in the captain's chair and ordered the computer to resume a playlist of music she had arranged for the trip. "Deep thule" had once been her preferred genre of music, but over the years she had acquired an appreciation for wave dyspro. It wasn't exactly toe-tapping fare, but she found the Dysprosium-style bands were good for background music while she read. She wasn't sure how that worked for concerts. Maybe their fans just stayed in their seats and read books during the show.

As she chewed on a ration bar, she glanced up at the main viewer occasionally. It was set to display a continuous readout on the sensor sweeps and life sign readings she had requested. In one hour, she would fire her pistol on the bridge again. Until then she hoped that she could knock out two more chapters of the novel she was reading.

She was not alone.

*******

[25 May, 234 Before Age. Planet Pflaume.]

Pflaume was an ice giant, a planet much larger than Saiya, or the other terrestrial worlds where humanoids typically lived. The only solid portion was at its core. Above this was a dense, superfluid mantle composed of ammonia, methane, and water. Above this lay a thick atmosphere of mostly hydrogen and helium, with clouds of hydrogen sulfide and ammonia. To cope with this hostile environment, Pflaume City was constructed to remain aloft in the toxic atmosphere. It was more like a space station than a planetary settlement, but its residents took pride in living in such an inhospitable place, even if they were completely sheltered from its hazards.

Over the years, Pflaume City became an important port-of-call, and this economic importance eventually attracted the idle rich, who enjoyed the novelty of living in such a unique place. The higher levels of the city were reserved for its most elite residents, and the most prized real estate on the station lay upon its uppermost level. There, a great dome displayed a real-time image of the violet Pflaumian sky. It was like standing on a terrestrial planet, only to be surrounded by a vast storm far grander than anyone could imagine. There were municipal parks that allowed the public to enjoy the view, but to actually own property under the dome was ridiculously expensive. To rent a modest apartment under the dome cost more than the price of some entire planets.

The King of the Saiyans, Rehval III, owned an entire private villa on the dome level. He enjoyed showing it off to anyone he met.

Luffa was not impressed.

"You found the doorway," he said pleasantly. "I had a feeling you would."

Behind Luffa was a glowing magic portal about the size and shape of a door. Though she had only taken a single step to pass through it, she had somehow traveled trillions of miles from an underground facility on Planet Saiya. She glanced back and noticed that the passage had begun to shrink and fade away, but this didn't concern her, since she wouldn't need to go back anytime soon.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do," Luffa said.

"Of course," Rehval said. The king was sitting on a stone bench, sipping tea from an expensive looking cup. As always he wore clothes of a particular shade of blue, which symbolized the royal line that had ruled the Saiyans for three generations. Usually, he dressed in a suit that resembled the sort of formal attire worn by alien diplomats and heads of state. Today, he looked more like some sort of monk. His tunic and pants were of a very simple, functional design, and he wore no shoes at all.

Standing behind the bench was a woman with rose-colored skin, although the hood of her blue silken robes obscured her face. Luffa thought she noticed some blue hair peeking out of the hood when the woman leaned forward to refill his cup. The tea was steaming hot, and yet she cradled the teapot with her bare hands without any sign of discomfort.

"I know you're excited to see Luffa in person, my dear," Rehval said, looking back to his companion, "but she and I have much to discuss first."

"We had an appointment this morning," Luffa said, struggling to contain her rage. "We were going to catch the Saiyan-killer today, remember?"

He let out an amused snort. "An appointment," he said. "I was hoping you'd call it a date. We're all alone out here, Luffa. You don't have to feel self-conscious about it."

"Knock that crap off," Luffa said. "You've been playing me from the start!"

"Like a fiddle," he admitted. "But some instruments just can't be tuned, no matter how gifted the musician is. Still, it was fun to try."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Luffa demanded.

"I'm talking about power, Luffa. Like most Saiyans, you equate power with physical strength. You think yourself to be the most powerful Saiyan because you're the strongest one, and your strength does make you powerful, but your power lacks scope. Strength is only one dimension of power. A man might be too weak to swim against the current of a mighty river, but if he swims at an angle, he can still manage to cross to the other side. And if he builds a water wheel along its banks to harness the river's power for his own ends? If he uses that power to build machines and uses them to change the very course of the river to suit his ends, is the man still weak? Is the river still mighty?"

"Is this going to be about how smart you are?" Luffa asked. "Because I get this kind of speech all the time. 'You may be strong, Super Saiyan, but my devious plan will blah blah blah' and maybe a death ray or something, and then I break every bone in their hands. If a man drowns in a river, no one cares how clever he was. If they think about him at all, they just call him "That Idiot Who Screwed Around With a River When He Should Have Known Better."

Rehval laughed. "You're right, I apologize," he said. "You've fought so many battles in your time, and all of your enemies probably felt very confident that they had an answer to your superior force. It must sound very cliche. I'll try to be more original."

Luffa shook her wrist, gesturing for him to get on with it.

"What I'm saying is that it's not just about being smart, or just being strong. It's about having options, so you can adapt to any situation. That's what my grandfather believed when he assumed the throne all those years ago. There were a lot of naysayers back then. Anti-monarchists-- like you and your mother-- who rejected the very idea of a Saiyan King. Saiyans who thought that the throne should be awarded in ritual combat. Saiyans who thought kings were only relevant in wartime. Rehval the First sought to change all that. He forged the Saiyan people into something resembling a real nation."

"And then he handed it off to his bastard son," Luffa said with a sneer. "Typical nepotism. You fools get a little bit of authority, and then you think it runs in the family."

"You're absolutely right," Rehval said. "My father didn't deserve the throne, but you shouldn't judge him too harshly. As a king, he carried on my grandfather's work, and he maintained order, more or less. He was more of a steward than a king, really. He was just keeping the throne warm for my brother."

"Your brother?" Luffa asked. For a moment, she was about to point out that he was an only child, but then she remembered the way she had learned this. In an effort to win her trust, Rehval had invited her to sift through his thoughts with her telepathic powers, and she had blithely assumed that any information she found would be genuine. Somehow, though, he had managed to lie to her in spite of this. Even now, when she knew that he had thwarted her mental abilities, it was still difficult to accept that she had been fed disinformation.

"My grandfather insisted that his line use a standard order of succession," Rehval said. "The oldest living male offspring becomes the next king. He was very high on bringing rule of law to the Saiyan race. No contests for leadership, no civil wars or usurpers. It worked well for so many alien governments, so why not us? That was why he made sure his grandchildren were educated off-planet. We went to some of the finest schools in the galaxy. What did your parents do for your schooling, Luffa? I'm guessing it was some run-of-the-mill computer software. I can promise you, you didn't miss anything. Two plus two is four no matter how much you pay someone to tell you that. The history of the Camelian Empire is the same no matter how far you travel. It's the little things that matter with education. The moments no one plans for, or the insights and opportunities that can't be written on a syllabus."

"And that's how you learned to resist mind-readers?" Luffa asked.

"You're getting ahead of me," Rehval said. "I studied alien histories because my father and grandfather thought they were important. My older brother was supposed to become king, not me. That was the rule of law. Even if I could have challenged him for the throne, I'd lose, because he was so much stronger. I was just the backup plan, in case he died unexpectedly. And that got me wondering about why he was born stronger. Why is one Saiyan naturally weaker than another? Why are some Saiyans born with great strength, while others have to work to achieve it? I trained very hard, Luffa, but my power never increased much at all, and I never came close to rivaling my brother."

"Maybe you should have tried harder," Luffa scoffed. "Instead of looking for excuses in the back of some textbook."

"I did both," Rehval said. "But the textbook was where I found the answer. We Saiyans have had a poor understanding of genetics. We think a child should be strong simply because its parents were strong, but it's much more complicated than that. Your parents were never Super Saiyans, yet here you are. My parents were strong, but my brother and I didn't inherit equal shares of that potential. Do you know why that is?"

"Who cares?" Luffa asked. "My father tried to game that system, Rehval. Remember him? He thought he could take my suffering and use it to increase his own strength."

"No, you don't understand," Rehval said. "I wasn't looking to steal someone else's abilities like your father. I wanted to bypass the game entirely. Fate made me the younger brother. Genetics left me at a disadvantage. Political theory wouldn't save me. If I usurped the throne, I would only be setting a precedent for others to usurp it from me. I needed options, so I found some. A classmate of mine told tales of magic-users who occasionally wandered through his home sector. Most of the students didn't listen to him, but I did. I asked him to tell me more. And from there..."

"You studied alchemy," Luffa said. "You told me it was your father's lab, that he was the one who spent all his free time trying to tinker with nature, but it was you all along, wasn't it?"

Rehval nodded. "I considered enrolling in the academy on Planet Gwarthos, but their record-keeping system is too meticulous, and I didn't want there to be any transcript of what I'd learned. Instead, I went to a remote asteroid and learned at the feet of an adept believed to have been dead for decades. My father and brother thought I was studying Camelian art theory, but when I returned to Planet Saiya, I brought with me the means to secure the throne for myself." He held up his hand and pretended to squeeze an imaginary eyedropper. "The next semester, I dosed my brother's food slowly, just enough to make him sick, but not enough to arouse suspicion. He and I were the only two Saiyans at that private school. It wasn't hard for me to switch places with him, and while I assumed his identity there, I worked on my plan to complete my disguise. Within a year, the true Rehval III was dead, and I, the pseudo-Rehval, took his name and his birthright."

"Then what's your real name?" Luffa asked.

"It doesn't matter," Rehval said. "Over the next few years, I learned to construct talismans that would bend others to my will. Eventually, I was able to drop my disguise entirely, and my father and anyone else who mattered believed that I had been the true Rehval III all along. The name my mother gave me became meaningless. The true power of alchemy lies in mystery, Luffa. When the great masters record their secrets, they use the names of other, more prominent figures to make their works seem more important. I have done the same."

"You're a disgrace!" Luffa snarled. "Where's your Saiyan pride?!"

"I swallowed it," Rehval said. "My birthname was a small price to pay for the chance to shape the future of our people. That was how I bypassed the system, Luffa. Your father tried to game the system, but I changed the rules. Did I ever tell you why I like elevators? I remember we talked about it one night, but I don't think I got around to explaining that."

"What does that have to do with--?!" Luffa began to protest.

"On most planets," Rehval went on, "the ones with cities and tall buildings, the ground floor would be the most expensive to rent. Rich people wouldn't want to take the stairs, and landlords would exploit that to their advantage, charging higher rent for lower floors. So a ground floor apartment would be seen as a sign of luxury and status, while the higher floors were left to the rabble. It doesn't make a lot of sense to people like us who can fly, I know, but take my word for it, it holds true on every planet with stairs. "But in every intelligent society, once the elevator is introduced, aha!" He snapped his fingers for effect, and Luffa winced with irritation. "Now, it's easy to move up and down a tall building. Overnight, the paradigm shifts. Now the rich demand to live on the top floors, where they can enjoy the view, or the satisfaction of being higher up than everyone else. Suddenly, what was once despised becomes important. That's the power of elevators, Luffa. That's the kind of power I crave. Not to make the rules, or to break them, but to redefine what rules are."

"You gave up your birthname so you could pretend to be the guy who invented elevators?" Luffa asked. It was a gross oversimplification of what he had said, but she couldn't resist the taunt.

"The Saiyan race had no future before my grandfather took control," Rehval said. "I learned that while I studied the history of other cultures. We Saiyans have no such history. Just a collection of superstitious folk tales passed down from mother to daughter. Everything else was lost and forgotten."

"Because those superstitious folk tales are all that really matter!" Luffa insisted. "They're all we need to know who we are and how we should live! But I guess your mother didn't get that message across! You won't even use the name she gave you!"

"I never said the old stories don't matter," Rehval said. "I'm saying that they're not all that matter. We can have more, but only if we unite as one people under one king and take responsibility for ourselves! It goes against our warrior nature, perhaps, but a strong ruler can force us all together. A strong dynasty can maintain that unity for however long it takes to forge the Saiyan race into a true culture!"

"And your damned sorcery lets you improve on what your grand-daddy started, is that it?" Luffa said. She turned her head and spit. "I've met half-breeds with more conviction than you, 'Rehval'. A true Saiyan doesn't look for shortcuts."

"Then I'm not a true Saiyan," Rehval said evenly. "I'm willing to sacrifice my identity to ensure the future of our species! It's a small price to pay. Tell me, Luffa, what are you willing to do for the Saiyan race? Lead by example? You'll just fight a series of empty wars until you die of old age."

A devious grin spread over Luffa's face. "That does sound like a pretty good life," she said.

"It does, doesn't it?" Rehval said. "I envy our ancestors, who could fight without a care in the world, but destiny has other plans for us, Luffa."

"That's what this is all about, isn't it?" she asked. "There never was a Saiyan killer. You arranged all those murders just so you could ask for my help. This whole time, you were scouting me for your stupid 'destiny plan'."

He sipped his tea and smiled. "You never cease to amaze me, Luffa. I wove a very complex web of deceit, and you still manage to cut straight to the heart of the matter. You're right, of course. I do need you. And since you haven't tried to kill me yet, I assume that you're willing to at least hear my proposal."

*******

[25 May 234 Before Age. Interstellar Space.]

Stealing aboard the Emerald Eye was child's play. Avoiding its various security systems was mildly challenging, but she had experience with these matters, and it was no great obstacle for her. The loss of cabin pressure in certain parts of the ship was at most an inconvenience, but nothing she couldn't handle. The sections of the ship pressurized with nitrogen but no oxygen, on the other hand... Those were a different story: they didn't bother her at all.

All in all, it was a disappointing defense, but Zatte was setting a trap, not a fortification. It was only supposed to seem like a thorough defense, and so one had to admire the thoroughness of the ruse. An unsuspecting intruder would have been completely fooled.

The only hard part was entering the bridge without making any noise. Fortunately, Zatte had solved that problem by playing music loud enough to drown out the pneumatic mechanism that opened the door from the lift. One simply had to climb the lift shaft, cut power to the door, and open it manually, releasing the pressure on the pneumatics slowly enough to cut down on the noise.

This allowed her onto the bridge, directly behind the captain's chair. From there, it was just a matter of closing the door behind her, and waiting patiently for the right moment to strike. When she was ready, she stealthily crept up behind Zatte's chair, drew her knife, and...

Suddenly Zatte leaped out of her seat and fired a pistol. The beam was wide enough that it didn't hit her very hard, but it was enough to knock her off her feet. And when Zatte looked directly at her, she realized that her power had been disrupted as well.

Very nice, she thought as she rolled to her feet.

"What the hell are you?!" Zatte demanded.

The intruder smiled and pointed at herself. "plibortuN vehasS, zattE," she said cordially. "That's the special greeting, right? That's how we prove to each other we're really Dorluns, isn't it?"

"Computer!" Zatte shouted. "Identify intruder life readings!"

"No life readings detected," replied the ship's computer.

The woman laughed. "I love this part," she said. "Usually I kill the mark before they ever really get a handle on what they're dealing with, but you! Oh, you'll take a while, so you've got plenty of time to work this out."

Zatte never took her eye off the intruder, and backed away slowly. "Computer," she asked. "Calculate oxygen consumption on the bridge. Does the oxygen demand indicate the presence of a second life form?"

"Negative," the computer replied.

"You're not breathing," Zatte said. "That's how you managed to stow away on all those other ships before you got to Planet Saiya. You don't put off any life signs because you're...."

"Bingo," the intruder cheered. "You were pretty clever, figuring out the Dorlun connection, but then you got cocky, and assumed that your enemy would be just like a Dorlun. And I am Dorlun, mostly, except for one teensy thing: I'm dead."

Zatte pointed at the woman's face. "You don't look like any Dorlun corpse I've ever seen, lady," she said. "Red skin, blue hair? And you look exactly like me. You've even got an eyepatch like mine, even though it's on the wrong eye."

"I know, right?" the intruder said. She gestured to the eyepatch proudly. "It's pretty awesome, but not a lot of people would get the reference. Just you and your friends and your wife, I guess. How is Luffa, by the way?"

"You leave her out of this," Zatte said.

"Leave her out of it?" the intruder laughed. "I was created because of her! Do you think my master would have gone to all this trouble otherwise? Do you know how long it takes to build a homunculus template? To customize it? To imprint it with superficial memories of the original?"

"Homunculus?" Zatte asked.

"Right, I should probably explain that," the intruder said. "I said I was 'dead', but that sort of implies that I used to be alive, and that isn't true. You wouldn't call a rock 'dead', for instance. 'Nonliving' would be more appropriate, but I like the way 'dead' rolls off the tongue. Makes me sound badass. Do you think Luffa would like that?"

"Why did you kill all those Saiyans?" Zatte demanded.

"Because they sucked!" the intruder replied. She threw up her hands and laughed. "Why does anyone do anything, Zatte? I'm a Dorlun, only I'm not a Dorlun, you get it? I'm not alive, so survival doesn't mean much to me. Instead of keeping myself alive like some people in this room, I make sure other people end up dead. You and me, we're like polar opposites, you get it?"

"Then why are you here?" Zatte asked. "If you're telling me you aren't even alive, then why would you care if I exposed your identity? You could have hidden on Planet Saiya for as long as you wanted!"

The intruder laughed. "Oh, you really are clueless, aren't you? I hope I don't sound that dumb when I talk. See, you thought you were being so clever, trying to set a trap for me by investigating my murders. And I was supposed to take the bait to keep you from finding out who I am. Except I'm nobody, Zatte. If you want to give me a name, you can call me Pozet. That's what my master calls me, but it really makes no difference to me."

"Pozet?!" Zatte asked.

"You like it?" she asked. "In the Dorlun language, it means the opposite of your name."

"That's sick!" Zatte said.

"Thanks," Pozet said. "Anyway, like I was saying, you thought you were bait to trap me, but you had it backwards. I was the bait to trap you. And here we are. Just you and me, and no Super Saiyans around to get in our way." She reached for a second knife holstered to the leg of her pants and pointed it menacingly at Zatte. "So... are you as excited about this as I am?"

Zatte's eye was wide with horror, and her mouth hung open in shock, so she had no reply to offer, but Pozet chose to take that as a "yes".

*******

[25 May 234 Before Age. Planet Pflaume.]

"A homunculus," Rehval explained. I knew very little about your wife, but I did learn that Zatte was hospitalized on Planet Extraliga for a time, and it wasn't difficult to hire someone to infiltrate the nursing staff and obtain hair and blood samples. More than enough to imprint her characteristics upon an alchemical construct."

He gestured to the woman standing behind him, and she lifted her hood, revealing a face identical to Zatte's only with red skin and blue hair, rather than the blue skin and red hair typical of Dorluns.

"I call her 'Pozet', he said. She's not really alive, but she resembles Zatte closely enough to give me some insight into that aspect of your life. I needed to understand you, Luffa. Friend or foe, I needed to know as much as I could learn about how your mind works."

Luffa glared at the creature, who now smiled at her with mock affection. "It even has her ability," she said dispassionately. "I was trying to figure out how it could hold that teapot without burning its hands, but it's using energy manipulation. Keeping the tea hot for you."

"I customized the formula to replicate important aspects of Zatte, while reversing certain others," Rehval said. "The color swap was an aesthetic choice. Your wife is a survivor, my Pozet exists only to take life away. She's even taught me some Dorlun phrases."

"Mostly pillow talk," Pozet said. "If you'd like, I can teach you--"

Luffa raised her hand and fired an energy blast at Pozet's forehead. It passed through her quite harmlessly, and destroyed a hill several dozen yards behind her.

"Ooh, spicy!" Pozet said.

"I thought you would have realized by now, Luffa," Rehval said. "The two of us aren't actually here. You're speaking to a image being projected from elsewhere in the city."

"I'm well aware of your cowardice," Luffa said bitterly. "I was just hoping your creature was really standing here, since you seem to consider it expendable."

"Not expendable," Rehval said as he patted Pozet's wrist. "Renewable. Since Pozet isn't truly alive, I can impart her essence onto as many homunculi as I can create. Currently, I have three of them active right now. This one stays here on Pflaume City to attend my villa while I'm away. The second is still lurking around Planet Saiya, continuing to kill Saiyans until I give her the order to stop, and the third is on your ship, securing your wife for me."

"You manufactured this whole Saiyan-killer business, just to lure me here," Luffa said, and you're telling me it's still killing people?"

"Of course she's still killing people," Rehval said. "You and I still haven't caught her yet. It would arouse suspicion if the murders suddenly stopped without explanation. My hope is that you and I come to terms, and then we go back and capture the killer together, and the public will celebrate our successful partnership."

Luffa threw back her head and made a low, angry groan. "You've been deceiving me this entire time, and yet you actually think I'm going to help you lie to your own people? I'll give you this much, Rehval, you may not have any Saiyan pride, but you make up for it in sheer gall."

"Thank you," he said. "That actually means a lot to me, since bile is considered an important bodily humor in alchemical theory. It gives me hope, Luffa, that despite all that's happened between us, we can still work together."

"Then you're deceiving yourself," Luffa said. "I followed you here to kill you."

"Yes, I know," Rehval said. "And that is why I withdrew to Pflaume City, Luffa. On Saiya, there was always a chance you might destroy the planet and escape in your starship. But now, your ship is far from here, so if you do anything reckless here, you risk rupturing the hull of this city."

He pointed at the dome above them, which displayed the torrent of purple clouds raging around them from all sides. "There's no oxygen out there, Luffa. You might be strong enough to survive the winds, but the toxic gases would suffocate you, and even if you had a spacesuit, there would be nowhere for you to go."

She glanced up at the dome, and then back at him. "Cute," she said. "I don't sense any other life forms on the city, either. You must have killed them-- No, you arranged for them to evacuate the place. That way, they'd take all their ships with them. The only way out is that portal I stepped through, and I'm guessing you're the only one who can open it."

"That's right," Rehval said. Pozet chuckled triumphantly while he leaned forward and steepled his fingers. "The only way off this planet alive is through me, Luffa. So you may as well take the time to hear what I have to say."

NEXT: Saiyan and Super Saiyan

#dragon ball #fanfiction #super saiyan #luffa #lssjluffafic #zatte #pozet #rehval #pflaume #sorry to go so long between updates #just felt more motivated to write than edit #so i decided to swim with the current #and these next several chapters are important so i wanted to get everything right

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jadeile-writes · 9 months

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Fanfic Progress Update 157

It's Saturday, so you get updated on the fic writing. Happy Holidays, btw; over here we celebrate it tomorrow rather than on 25th, so I'm almost free from this hassle. Stay tuned for a sneak-peek for A Sign that you're important at the bottom of this post!

Current WIPs:

A Sign that you're important (previously named I'm Signing in the Drain)

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Summary: One month upon his assigment as Doctor Robotnik's assitant, Agent Stone is told to learn sign language. He doesn't know why, and isn't suicidal enough to ask, so he simply rolls with it. Turns out, it's not just a whimsy of the eccentric doctor, even though that doesn't stop the doctor from utilizing it like one.

Progress: The first chapter was posted on 21st of December. The second chapter will be posted on 28th of December aka next Thursday. Chapter 3 is finished. Chapter 4 has been started. This fic will most likely have five chapters, maybe six if I get epilogue-happy or smth.

Let's hope I can get an adequate amount of writing for this one done despite the Christmas hassle, cause I really don't want to panic-write the last two chapters on the week of posting them. ...I say, like I don't have three weeks to write chapter 4 at this point. But listen, I'm also making eyes at a next idea I have in a little list of ideas, like juggling two fics isn't enough. Tho in my defense, Lab Life is quietly writing itself in the background and doesn't count, especially if I can manage to queue up another fic after this one (I'd really prefer if Lab Life was fully written before I post any of it, because then I'd have lots of time to get started on the sequel while it keeps the readers fed). I'm gonna be so fucked when Hazbin Hotel airs and I might end up double-fandoming :D

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Life at the laboratory (previously known as SBLF, which, btw, was actually just short of StoBotnik LongFic, lol)

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Summary (temporary):

Dr. Robotnik, huh?

Progress: This one will be part one of a two-parter longfic, the first part probably... 10-ish chapters? It's a bit hard to estimate at this point, so the number is subject to change - will probably end up increased tbh. My weekly writing hour (as in, a specific hour when I sit down and write, no excuses [other than not being home]) is devoted to this fic.

I have the first four chapters completely written now. Chapter 5 is halfway done. I also have two halfway written chapters that don't yet know their exact placement within the fic (they're scenes that will be slotted in to wherever they feel natural, once we get Stone settled in.)

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Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to Someday™:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Zelda: BotW)

Hah, our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest! (Hazbin Hotel)

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That’s it for the WIPs! Here’s the promised sneak-peek into A Sign that you're important (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

As far as meetings went, Stone was usually patient and attentive. This time, however, he was certainly in agreement with the doctor that this particular meeting was honestly boring and pointless, and it wasn’t just Robotnik’s “hating meetings” -thing. The only reason the two of them had to be attending at all was because Robotnik had a presentation of his own to add to the collection that was happening right then, which meant that nothing the other people said was actually relevant to their jobs or worth listening to – they were just waiting for their turn. There was nothing interesting going on, and it was made worse by the people presenting their points doing it in the least interesting way they could and droning on and on and on about their projects.

Stone was, quite frankly, contemplating the merits of pretending to get a phone call and leaving the room to take it and then simply not coming back after. The only reason he didn’t was because the doctor would murder him for leaving him to suffer alone. The torture that came first would make this bore of a gathering seem like a cakewalk in comparison, and then end with his mother grieving for her dead son. It was probably better for his career prospects to stay. Or he could take the window instead, this was the seventh floor, it’d be a swift end and he’d avoid the torture part…

His morbid ways of self-amusement were interrupted when the doctor – sitting on his right – suddenly moved. More precisely, his hands un-steepled themselves from the table and started forming words.

-----

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

Links:

My AO3 My FFnet My Ko-fi Radiohusk Discord Server

#fanfic progress update

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jadeile-writes · 10 months

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Fanfic Progress Update 155

I'm so glad it's Saturday, this week has been exhausting because of a Christmas market I participated in today - so much baking and other preparations. Anyway, stay tuned for the last sneak-peek for Keep the Cuddles Platonic -challenge at the bottom of this post!

Current WIPs:

Keep the Cuddles Platonic -challenge

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Progress: Chapter 4 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 7th of December. Chapter 5 is finished and will be posted on 14th of December aka next Thursday, and then this fic will be officially done!

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I'm Signing in the Drain

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Progress: This fic will most likely have five chapters, maybe six if I get epilogue-happy or smth. The first chapter is now truly finished, as I fixed the ending to my liking. A new second chapter appeared because of a thing I removed from the first chapter but didn't want to ditch, so now it's in the process of being fully expanded on to be the second chapter. It's about 1/4 done. The old second chapter, now the third chapter, is finished now too.

I'm actually positive I can spin this into full on Stobotnik, because now I have a clear vision of how to go about it :D Also, I need to pick up the slack with writing this, because this will be the next in the line to be published unless some random oneshot(s) appear to fill in between Cuddles and this one to buy me more time. ...Not a word about how I could just write a chapter of this one in the time it'd take me to write an entire-ass oneshot >.> Shh, just be happy if you get more fics!

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SBLF (workname)

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Summary (temporary):

Dr. Robotnik, huh?

Progress: This one will be a longfic, probably around 20 chapters. It's a bit hard to estimate at this point, so the number is subject to change. Or most likely I'll cut this into two fics in a series, because quite honestly, it's two stories in one package (that is, half of it is pre-canon and half post-canon.) My writing hours will be devoted to this fic.

I have the first four chapters completely written now. Chapter 5 is not yet started. I also have two halfway written chapters that don't yet know their exact placement within the fic (they're scenes that will be slotted in to wherever they feel natural, once we get Stone settled in.)

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Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to Someday™:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Zelda: BotW)

Hah, our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest! (Hazbin Hotel)

-----

Stone woke up at his usual time, two minutes to seven, without any aid from alarm clocks. Not that he had an alarm set for that time anymore, since his work started at ten to accommodate the doctor’s hatred for mornings, but years of habit and him being a morning person were hard to train out of.

Stone stretched as much as he could while being weighed down by Robotnik sleeping on his chest, then looked down at him with a fond smile. As usual, the doctor had his head tucked under Stone’s chin, was holding him loosely around the chest, and had their legs all tangled up together. He had not so much as stirred by Stone’s movements, so used to this arrangement by now.

Stone observed the sleeping doctor’s mess of a hair in the morning sun that was peeking in through the small gaps in the venetian blinds. He could see hints of auburn red at the roots and mentally added black hair dye to the shopping list. Why Robotnik hated his natural hair colour was a mystery to Stone, but he looked forward to helping him with the dyeing process anyway.

-----

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

Links:

My AO3 My FFnet My Ko-fi Radiohusk Discord Server

#fanfic progress update

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jadeile-writes · 10 months

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Fanfic Progress Update 152

Hello, it's Saturday! That means I'm doing an update on the stories that are currently in the works. Stay tuned for a sneak-peek for Keep the Cuddles Platonic -challenge at the bottom of this post!

Current WIPs:

Keep the Cuddles Platonic -challenge

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Progress: Chapter 1 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 16th of November. Chapter 2 is finished and will be posted on 23rd of November aka next Thursday. There is a sneak-peek into the chapter at the bottom of this post. Chapter 3 is in a complicated situation - it was supposed to be the last chapter, but it already reached a word count to match the previous chapters and is at a perfect point to end it, should I want to. So, I have two options: 1. I let this chapter be longer than the other ones and keep the fic to three chapters total. 2. I end the chapter at the natural cut off it's currently at and simply do a chapter 4 to finish the fic with. I'm thinking that option 1 will be Plan A, and I'll go with it if the fic gets finished in roughly 500 more words. If, however, the fic keeps going to a 1000 more words, I'll do a chapter 4 and just flesh it out until it matches the other chapters in length. In short: Good news, more story one way or another, woop!

—–

I'm Signing in the Drain

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Progress: This fic will have at least three chapters, maybe four. The second chapter is almost done, despite the first one not being written yet. I'm actually not sure if this fic will end up being Stobotnik aside from Stone being Big Gay as usual, cause Robotnik is being very aroace right now and I don't know if he'll give Stone a chance or not, as that is not really the point of the fic. Anyway, I wrote a bit more since the last update, but not enough to finish the chapter, as I focused on Cuddles.

—–

SBLF (workname)

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Summary (temporary):

Dr. Robotnik, huh?

Now the actual progress. I have the first two chapters written (first is a prologue, so about half the length) and the third one is now 3/4s done thanks to a successful writing hour today. I also have two halfway written chapters that don't yet know their exact placement within the fic (somewhere in the early middle, but like, are they chapters 5 and 6 or 7 and 8, nobody knows).

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to Someday™:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Zelda: BotW)

Hah, our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest! (Hazbin Hotel)

—–

Every overnight business trip or remote mission involved nightly cuddling these days. There weren't very many of them, as most of Doctor Robotnik's work could be done remotely or the mandatory meetings and frankly pointless presentations were held at the Virginia headquarters, but every now and then travel was a necessary evil.

What had changed between the last trip and the current one was that Stone had found himself holding the doctor in a different regard. As in, he now had a massive, soul consuming, heart palpitations inducing crush on the man, and that was terrifying.

As he dragged their luggage in, he forced himself to remember the doctor's words from the very first time they had this arrangement: purely platonic. Non-intimate.

While the focus had been on Stone keeping his hands to himself and his pants untented, surely that included romantic notions too.

—–

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

Links:

My AO3 My FFnet My Ko-fi Radiohusk Discord Server

#fanfic progress update

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jadeile-writes · 4 years

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Fanfic Progress Update 88

Happy Halloween and Blue Moon, everyone! Let’s take a glimpse into my very uneventful update, shall we? Also, stay tuned for a spoilery glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure Gone Mini at the end of the post!

Random notice, my birthday is on 5th of November. Feel free to spam my inbox with “happy birthdays” on that day XD I may not post all the letters publicly if I get a ton, but I’ll post at least a couple if I get any.

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 44 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 21st of October. Chapter 45 is halfway done, and I’ve settled on the posting date being 11th of November. The fic’s second anniversary is on the 7th, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get the chapter done in time for that - I’ll be too busy arranging my own birthday party for the 5th.

I post a new chapter every three weeks on Wednesdays, except when I don’t manage to. These updates always include a sneak-peek for the next chapter, slowly getting longer over the three weeks waiting period.

—–

Experiment in Romance

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary (temporary): Husk’s afterlife takes an odd turn when a drunk Alastor knocks on his door and has no intention of going to his own room for the night. It only gets weirder from there, leaving Husk with a most unexpected arrangement with the Radio Demon. Either it’ll be the best decision in his afterlife, or he’s simply out to break his own damn heart dealing with the fickle asshole. Radiohusk.

Progress: Chapter 1 is ready. Chapter 2 is still about ¾ths done. No progress this week.

—–

Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: This is not a stand-alone story! This is a oneshot/drabble collection in the universe as “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”. Read the main story before bothering with this one.

I decided to give my readers a chance to throw Radiohusk prompts at me, and had the Afterlife-verse as an option to set the stories in. Everyone liked that, so this fic is now a thing. Enjoy the extra mischief from these two dorks!

Progress: Chapter 26 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 28th of August. No progress this week, and likely not next week either because birthday. After that I should be able to get back to regular writing schedule - I hope so at least.

I have 12 prompts left.

This fic receives a new chapter every Friday, except when it doesn’t, like right about now.

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here’s the promised sneak-peeksinto Adventure gone Mini (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

Whatever Link had expected, it was certainly not this. Granted, his expectations had boiled down to "please don't be an enemy nest", and technically this fit the bill, but still, what he got was so much more than just that.

What he had expected to be a small hole in a tree that would be perfect for a bit of hiding – and maybe contain a treasure chest for him to loot – turned out to be the entire tree being completely hollow inside, which was… a big space in their current size. Not only that, but there were stairs on both his left and right leading to a platform that circled presumably the entire width of the tree. There was an eerie, dim light source suspended in midair in the dead center of the chamber, giving enough light to see things like the stairs and the platform near him, but not enough to see the entire room clearly.

—–

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

Links:

My AO3 My FFnet Purple Crayon aka my website My Ko-fi Radiohusk Discord Group invitation

#Fanfic progress update

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jadeile-writes · 4 years

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Fanfic Progress Update 58

Hi<3 Time to do a Fanfic Progress Update, as is the done thing on Saturdays. Stay tuned to the end of this post for a spoiler-y glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure gone Mini AND a new exciting Hazbin oneshot!

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Progress: Chapter 36 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 18th of March. Chapter 37 is finished and will be posted on 8th of April. Chapter 38 hasn’t been started.

I post a new chapter every three weeks on Wednesdays. These updates always include a sneak-peek for the next chapter, slowly getting longer over the three weeks waiting period.

—–

That month of the year

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: Every year, for a single month, the Radio Demon gets… emotional. His antlers are in velvet and he’s pumped full of hormones that make him behave quite unlike himself: suddenly, everywhere he looks, instead of seeing fellow demons all he sees are helpless little fawns that nobody is taking a proper care of! Solution? Adopt them.

Husk, Niffty, Camille, Honey, and the rest of the older Fawns put up with their Mom/Dad’s nonsense every year, but this time there’s a new, rotten apple in their midst and they have to protect Alastor from this crook. Without Alastor knowing about it. As Husk likes to put it: “This is fucking bullshit. …I mean fudgy nonsense.”

(Crack taken seriously. Gen)

Progress: The first two chapters are finished (with some heavy editing still required for the second one). The third chapter has been started. I want to have at least three chapters written before posting anything, preferably more than that because I don’t know how long this fic is gonna be. I can tell it’s longer than the originally planned five chapters tho, since we’ve barely gotten the ball rolling with the first two chapters!

This fic is co-authored by Maximillian!

—–

Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: This is not a stand-alone story! This is a oneshot/drabble collection in the universe of “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”. Read the main story before bothering with this one.

Progress: Chapter 9 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 27th of March. Chapter 10 is about 2/3 done and is scheduled for 10th of April (Friday). This story will have at least seven more chapters, but who even knows at this point. Additional prompts are not accepted at this moment.

This fic receives a new chapter every Tuesday and Friday, unless something comes up. I’ll post a sneak-peek for Tuesday’s chapter on these updates, and one for Friday’s chapter in a separate post on Wednesday.

—–

What boundaries?

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Summary: It was a fact that Alastor was incapable of existing in the same room – or even the same house – as Husk without initiating some form of physical contact on a constant basis. Husk swore it wasn't what it fucking looked like. Too bad nobody ever believed him. Alastor actively stroking his chest fur as he made the claim probably didn't help his case. Progress: Hey it’s a new thing! This is a very long oneshot (6000 words so far, and still missing a bit) that I’ve been randomly working on all week instead of writing the things I should have been writing! : D But that’s fine, this is almost finished now and I’m going to get this done and posted by 7th of April (Tuesday). ...Is this Radiohusk, you ask? Hehe, you’ll have to read and find out~ And look! There’s a sneak-peek for this at the end of this post! ;)

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Possibly worth staying for (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Experiment in Romance (Hazbin Hotel)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here is the promised sneak-peek into Adventure gone Mini and What boundaries? (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

Misteri led the two of them through the Toadstool Town, as it was called. The town wasn't very large, especially compared to the capital, which was the last city they had been to, but she used the little time it took for them to walk to the town hall to animatedly talk about her home. She explained how they, indeed, used magic to keep the toadstools preserved, and in some cases even alive if it was known that the building would need more space in the future – the Minish who wanted large families would start with a small house and then let it grow bigger as they had more children. It was very fascinating and practical, and Sidon looked like he wanted to stop and observe the growth with his own two eyes, as silly as that was. Also, turned out that the local Minish were called Mist Minish, while the "regular" ones were Forest Minish. Rumor had it there were Mountain Minish around the mountains, and Field Minish in the Hyrule Fields. Misteri didn't know if there were Desert Minish in the Gerudo lands, Water Minish in the Zora Kingdom, Jungle Minish in the Faron region, and maybe some specific kind of Minish around the Hylian and Sheikah towns, but assumed it to be so. Link suddenly felt like their mini adventure was woefully inadequate now, since there was so much more to the Minish world to be seen all over Hyrule. He wanted to explore all of it one day. Maybe with Sidon, maybe with Zelda, maybe with both. It didn't seem like he was going to be running out of adventures anytime soon. Good. They arrived to the town hall before they could get too deep into their speculations, which may have been for the best. Said hall was very small. In fact, it seemed more like a-

"Welcome to my home!" Misteri said, arms wide and a smile on her face. Yep, that's what Link thought. "We don't actually have a set town hall as there really isn't that much of a need for one. It's just the home of however is in charge, and that's been me for the last few years. Make yourselves comfortable; I'll prepare the dinner!"

—–

What boundaries?

Husk should have known this would fucking happen. Honestly, he couldn't believe he hadn't seen this coming, because this was a fucking inevitability.

What was "this", one might ask? "This" was Alastor hanging onto his person every fucking time they were in the same room for literally any amount of time. This very moment was a prime example of the phenomenon. Alastor and Charlie had entered the lobby together, discussing something or another about the hotel's development. They had walked over to the window that had a view of the hotel's front yard and stopped there to continue their discussion. Husk, at the time, had been at the bar counter, as per usual. But within the first five minutes of the pair's appearance he suddenly found himself no longer leaning against the counter and making cherry blossom strings out of the paper packagings the plastic straws were wrapped in, but instead he was between Alastor and Charlie, with Alastor's arm around his shoulders and his pointy nose nuzzling his cheek while the guy continued the conversation like nothing was amiss.

He had to give Alastor some measure of credit: they had been at the hotel for three entire days now and this hadn't happened in front of company until right then. His summoning here not counting.

—–

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

AO3 FFnet Purple Crayon Ko-fi

#Fanfic progress update

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