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thisweekingundamwing · 4 years

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This Week in Gundam Wing June 28 - 4 July 2020

Here’s this week’s roundup!

Remember to give your content creators some love! And join in on the events at the bottom!

~Mod Hel PS. So, I’m really bad at checking my email... I really need to get better at it. Some of these (which I’m sure will be new to a lot of you) are from long before this last week... whoops.

Fanfiction/Snippets/AU Ideas:

@bobo-is-tha-bomb

Five dates with Mister Handsome https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622383229580771328/five-dates-with-mister-handsome

1xReader (gender unspecified)

reader-insert, second person POV, fluff, romance

He was sinfully good looking and he had agreed to five dates with an idiotic drunk who claimed one single kiss was worth five dates. You couldn’t help but wonder why.

@coffeetailor

Emergence (Ch. 11) https://archiveofourown.org/works/13322880/chapters/60710743

Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, Quatre Raberba Winner, Trowa Barton, Chang Wufei, Sally Po

Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, borrowers fusion but don't call them borrowers, disturbing themes like people trafficking from the bad guys, Size Difference, Will probably be a series, alternate canon events, Macro/Micro

When the war ended, things went a little strange. First, Duo vanished after never having let them see him in person. Then, years later, a tiny race of people are discovered. And that's just the start of things.

Fun Curses with Catboys https://archiveofourown.org/works/25047898

Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell

Chang Wufei, Duo Maxwell

magic transformation, Size Difference, catboy, Anal Sex, Post-Canon, Magic, wufei's a wizard, thar be porn

When Wufei leaves the Preventers, Duo goes snooping and finds out some things about his favorite (crush) loner. Like his hobbies in gardening, rare book collecting, and… magic? Probably shouldn’t have touched that, Duo. Good thing it’s a fun curse, and there’s a sexy wizard around to help out.

@chronicwhimsy

Strangers (Ch. 6) https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357013/chapters/60473569

Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell, Background Quatre x Relena, Background Heero x Trowa - Character

OC - Oliver McGann

Long Lost Twins, this was meant to be hijinks but then I got reminded these boys have Issues, Pining, Duo is a stressed-out jerk who needs a holiday, Post-EW, Frozen Teardrop can do one, sex in later chapters because this is me who are we kidding

If you said the word "brother" to Duo Maxwell, he'd think of the other pilots.

If you said, "no, your long-lost brother" to Duo Maxwell, he'd think of Solo and be very confused.

If you said, "no, your twin brother you were separated from at birth, and he's now working with the Preventers as a lawyer" to Duo Maxwell, he would go and punch his doppelganger.

Duo Maxwell isn't good at dealing with things, but unfortunately this particular thing isn't going to go away that easily.

@destinysblackrose

It Takes a Legend... https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012021

Relena Peacecraft/Heero Yuy, Relena Peacecraft & Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell/Hilde Schbeiker

Heero Yuy, Relena Peacecraft, Trowa Barton, Duo Maxwell, Duo Maxwell Jr., Hilde Schbeiker, Chang Wufei

Angst, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Slice of Life, Duo's going to have his ribs broken, Gundam Wing children, #fatherhood, Fatherhood, Father's Day, Crass Humor, teenaged boy humor

“Listen, I can’t possibly imagine what it’s like to be you. You never had a childhood. And you never had a father—”

“No,” Heero shook his head. “I didn’t. I trained to fight, to kill from…as far back as I can remember.” The visible side of his mouth, from Aidan’s vantage point, turned down.

“It’s why,” he paused and picked up a wrench from the open drawer. “It’s why sometimes...I’m, I’m at a total loss…” He dropped the hand holding the wrench to his side. Aidan could see his knuckles change color where he throttled the metal implement.

“Your mom is so much, better at these things… At being there for you.”

@doctormegalomania

Introspective https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622202012283584512/introspective

Implied 1x2, implied 3x4, implied past 2xH, past 1xR

self-exploration of gender identity and sexuality, reference to past sexual situations (non-explicit), candid conversations

Heero gives some thought to his sexuality.

Your Body’s Poetry (Ch. 20) https://archiveofourown.org/works/20438891/chapters/60737623

Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei/Original Female Character(s), Relena Peacecraft & Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell/Original Male Character(s)

Characters: Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei, Sally Po, Relena Peacecraft, Lucrezia Noin, Zechs Merquise, Hilde Schbeiker

Past Relationship(s), Slice of Life, Post-Break Up, Slow Burn, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence

Long after the wars, long after peace is established the Gundam Pilots discover one immovable fact: Relationships are hard work.

@duointherain

Beneath: All Those Sounds https://duointherain.tumblr.com/post/622765434690781184/beneath-all-those-sounds-11

Notes: The boys are 35. They are married and they live in Seattle. Heero is a physician and a research scientist. Duo is a stay at home dad and a best selling novelist. They have twins who are spending the holiday with their grandmother Maureen and their godmothers, Rey and Precious.

It didn’t take much. Neither of them said anything. The fireworks exploded outside their house, somewhere down by the water, far enough away that it was just a soft little press against the windows, against their souls.

Left on Read https://duointherain.tumblr.com/post/622787629087440896/fic-left-on-read-1

Duo Maxwell had decided, several years before, that he didn’t much like Preventers. At the time, he hadn’t know what he did like either. The therapist that Quatre had talked him into seeing had told him this was normal. Trauma would leave a person with little self, especially if the trauma had happened early and consistently. He had said quiet loudly, that day that he had plenty of self, everyone thought so! He was loud and brash and brave and drank too much, and had more lovers than she’d probably had in her whole boring life

@lemontrash

The Morning Brightens https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622390770875465728/the-morning-brightens

4x5

established relationship, coming out fic, fluff

After a night of not sleeping on it, Wufei discusses something important with Quatre.

@lifeaftermeteor

Pride https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622300166716833793/pride

1x2

pride parade, slice of life, fluff, asexual duo

Duo has only recently come to terms with his asexuality. It took him a long time to understand it, and even longer to embrace it as inherently part of himself. To celebrate, Heero takes him out onto the streets for New York City’s Pride.

@relenaforpresident

Just Love: Queerness in Gundam Wing https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622292634598293504/just-love-queerness-in-gundam-wing

No ships but reference to both 1xR and 1x2

non-fiction, personal essay, self-reflection, gender, queerness, fandom

A personal essay on how the Gundam Wing series and fandom community helped me change my personal beliefs on love and gender.

@simulacraryn

Donguri https://archiveofourown.org/works/24733540

General Audiences

Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Heero Yuy, Odin Lowe

A short piece about Odin Lowe and his young protégé. This is an excerpt from a longer (discontinued) 2009 fic I once posted on ff.net ("Kaifuku"), but it can be read as a standalone piece.

Heero’s Inheritance https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658531

General Audiences

Heero Yuy, Odin Lowe

Illustrations, Headcanon

Just a short headcanon about Heero's past. Illustrated work.

TheManwell

A Season for Vengeance (Ch. 10) https://archiveofourown.org/works/22508074/chapters/53785717

Explicit

Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell, Solo/Heero Yuy

Trowa Barton, Duo Maxwell, Catherine Bloom, Cathy's son (OC), Cathy's husband (OC), Heero Yuy, Zechs Merquise, Quinze (Gundam Wing), Solo (Gundam Wing), Nichol (Gundam Wing), Lucrezia Noin

dude in distress, Trowa for MVP, things that go boom, Backstory things, modern day AU, Sequel, alternating pov, Trowa POV, Duo POV

It's been over a year since Duo and Trowa escaped the pain and betrayal and danger of their pasts, went off the grid and started building a new life together. But when Duo's birthday comes and goes without a single obnoxious message from his older brother, they know something is wrong. It's time to break cover and check in. The only problem is that Duo's brother works for a powerful government agency, so making that call will put Duo and Trowa on their radar...

Fanart/Crafts/Photo Manips:

@antarespromise

https://antarespromise.tumblr.com/post/622394387634257921

Quatre Raberba Winner, fanart

@bettertasting

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622198278449168385/title-proud-artist-cindy-bettertasting

Gboys Pride Banner, @wingqueero, fanart

@bobo-is-tha-bomb

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622296415384764416/title-in-the-name-of-justice-and-love-artist

Pride Leo “In the name of Justice and Love”, @wingqueero, gunpla

@coffeetailor

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622303966073683968/title-special-delivery-artist-coffee

Duo/WuFei, @wingqueero, fanart

@daddywarbats

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622213395485229056/title-just-gals-being-pals-or-not-artist

Hilde/Relena, @wingqueero, fanart

@deathscythehell

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622209566153818112/artist-tami-deathscythehell-description-one

Duo/Quatre (best dads), @wingqueero, fanart (comic)

@deejayers

https://deejayers.tumblr.com/post/622482172907077632/and-wing-is-complete-talk-about-a-monster-this

Wing, gunpla

@gundayum

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622439861179351040/hi-all-gundayum-here-im-gonna-try-and-not-make

Important Thank You, and some partied out WuFei, @wingqueero, fanart

@gwfrozentears

https://gwfrozentears.tumblr.com/post/622495742005772288/por-siempre-mi-pareja-favorita

Heero & Relena

https://gwfrozentears.tumblr.com/post/622493743305621504/he-comenzado-a-dibujar-nuevamente-inspirada-en-el

Heero

https://gwfrozentears.tumblr.com/post/622494840371970048

Heero

https://gwfrozentears.tumblr.com/post/622499630050066432

Heero

https://gwfrozentears.tumblr.com/post/622548456296300544

Heero

https://gwfrozentears.tumblr.com/post/622507185094721536

Heero/Relena

@lokineko

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622205797731123200/title-quiet-happiness-artist-lokineko

Trowa/Heero, @wingqueero, fanart

lotopauanka

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622288883271467008/title-just-married-artist-lotopauanka-social

Heero/Duo, @wingqueero, fanart

@oekakimemo

https://oekakimemo.tumblr.com/post/622350648656134144/20200630-traditional-painting

Relena Darlian/Peacecraft, fanart

@page-of-wands11

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622379476560609280/title-colourful-kiss-artist-page-of-wands

Heero/Duo, @wingqueero, fanart

@seitou

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622394541550534656/title-pride-walk-artist-seitou-seitou-social

Pride Walk, @wingqueero, fanart

@tatakaumono

https://tatakaumono.tumblr.com/post/621743027371819008/happy-24-day-pride-dont-tag-as

Quatre/Duo, fanart

@theboringbluecrayon

https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/post/622387009366982656/title-family-pride-wip-artist-blue

Trowa/Quatre & Family, @wingqueero, fanart

Photosets/Gifsets/Screenshots/Manga Pages:

@bobo-is-tha-bomb

https://bobo-is-tha-bomb.tumblr.com/post/622708372721025024/never-though-they-would-come-in-but-here-they

GW OST CDs, photo

https://bobo-is-tha-bomb.tumblr.com/post/622456639940919296/always-nice-when-the-mail-man-stops-by

gw artbooks, and other merch, photo

@cuteciboulette

https://cuteciboulette.tumblr.com/post/622269950937186304/another-extract-from-the-cover-of-the

Heero/Duo, doujinshi “Toki no suna” by Sango Show cover

Fandom Discourse:

@2pcb has created a wonderful discord for gw artists who would like monthly prompts to get those creative juices flowing! DM them if you’d like to join!

@hanryuu would like to know whether anyone has translated the Blind Target drama cds. If you have any information on that we would be grateful!

Quotes:

@incorrectgundamwingquotes

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/622379465062924288/duo-why-do-bigfoot-hunters-try-to-lure-him-with-a

Duo, Trowa, & WuFei

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/622560690151047168/wufei-we-can-talk-about-normality-until-the-cows

WuFei, Heero, Trowa, & Duo

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/622470062887075840/heero-run-thisdoesntbothermeexe-brain-file

Heero

Calendar Events:

@gwcocktailfriday

Cocktail Fridays!

Post responses on Friday, during Happy Hour between 3 & 5 pm in your own timezone.

Here’s the prompt for Friday, July 10th! https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/post/622719166375493632/raspberry-mango-sangria-yield-1-pitcher-prep

In need of FALL/AUTUMN prompts!

@gwoc-october

GW OC October 2020!

Help pick out prompts!

https://gwoc-october.tumblr.com/post/621130082429337600/hello-gundam-wing-folks-thats-right-gw-oc

@seasons-of-gundamwing

Voting Results: https://seasons-of-gundamwing.tumblr.com/post/622566396369485824/looks-like-well-be-doing-a-hilde-week-thanks-to

Summer of Hilde!

In need of prompts! https://seasons-of-gundamwing.tumblr.com/post/622567839387271168/summer-of-hilde-prompt-call

@wingqueero

Gundam Wing Pride Party 2020

Come check out all the amazing works! https://wingqueero.tumblr.com/

#Gundam Wing #This Week in Gundam Wing #Weekly Roundup #June 28 - 4 July 2020

22 notes · View notes

echosrant · 4 years

Text

Horrified and retraumatized. To take something reminesant of so many of us CAS and blanetly disregard our safety, survival and you have taken away our power we worked so hard to gain over the abuse we’ve suffered.

Maybe it’s unclear, because I cannot fathom a life where you can make excuses for content labeled as po*n, that includes children, and say that’s it’s not child p**n??? To say that they are cartoons makes it okay?? Including it in a fetish as well?? Take all the together and everyone is still okay with it (not everyone only the ones that have bullied us to be silent by reporting our social media because we have truly never been retraumatized like this before).

It feels like our past hell (I as well as the 7 that are still alive that suffered far to long) included some of the very shit you have justified. The thing is, anime or cartoons are easy to sneak under the radar. I won’t go in to the horror details, but something as innocent as a drawing because the very thing that existing in anything that’s pure evil. Those images wouldn’t look like cartoons anymore (well I’d hope not, but if you truly know so much about childhood trauma and abuse then I’d think you’d have just a hard of a time as me). But, because if effects you’re wallet, and you need to still exploit people like me for your career (for you, your just showing we can live a normal life by showcasing it), no matter if I want it or not.

My life has never been mine and someone is still controling the narrative. I don’t want or need you to show me how or why I experience my reality (and not allowing me to state for myself). You’ve stripped us in a similar (while different) way as people of our past. I have been a mess for a long time under your claws, relieved to be finally hopefully free from you, but scared and nervous wondering when I will get caught for speaking my truth and bullied to either run away or worse until I cannot take anything any more.

Why did you have to invalidate what happened to so many, and deny me and other survivors our voice, crushing it for your own sake as a way to repair damage you had caused yourself, yet still blame the survivors that you’ve grown unable to control. There are so many things wrong about it. So many things crashing around me as people continue to push this crap all over the place. All I see are tweets of reasons why I’m not a person but an object used for anyone’s personal fullfilment. And reminders of why I’m still here??

I wish I felt safe enough to push publish. I have so many saved notes from the past 6 months in my pathetic attempt to feel safe to speak. I feel I am to explode with all the hurt inside. But I’ve lived with that a few times before. But this time I want to publish it and not care what comes next. I do fear for my safety because the lengths that people who have pure obsession and fixation on them they will stop atnnothing to punish people like me, who are the scum of the earth, that have hurt those precious people and that should rot in hell. Apparently my traumas or memories don’t fit in to what they will accept as valid. And I don’t want their validation, I don’t need it. What I need is to be able to live my life my way. To know it’s okay to not have to force myself to make my disorder fit with there approved content that won’t threaten their credibility. My disorder doesn’t and never had worked like that and never will. I was fooled early on that there was something wrong with me, I couldn’t even be messed up right, and thought maybe it would just take time. Well that’s ridiculous and I knew that I’m away. Messed me up during therapy and confusion was constantly there.

I don’t trust anyone, they will do anything to achieve their agenda. I don’t have a history that tells me or gives me much proof that I should or that I’m wrong. I will try and keep an open mind, but I have no idea what I have in me right now. Other than fear and being pissed off that I hope I’m brave enough to friken publish this.

This is my own personal rant. I needed to get it out of me. If you come here and tell me how wrong I am or mean don’t even bother. I know what I experienced and I know what I feel. I’m not going to let anyone else feel they have a right to take that away from me. Hence why I’m on a new platform (that I don’t know how to use) because your kind has all ready managed to taint everywhere else and even have my accounts deleted. Seriously, anything that tells me what I feel or why I am wrong is manipulation and it’s actually abuse. Secondary abuse or being controlled by someone else to make you do what’s necessary to ruin all who oppose. Don’t come here, burning your bra and stomping your feet demanding that obey. I’m not an object to control. And I will never allow anyone to try and make me only an object. Go back to your cult (that’s really what it’s become) I want no part of it. It’s not at all what it seems and controlling the comments, getting videos that explain the horrendous crap that goes on, getting rid of all that is why it’s so hard to see. I don’t trust the toxic damaged people who refuse to get help because they become dangerous. They are dangerous and I know what I went through, and what I’m currently going through. But there’s only a few of us have seen what’s hidden and how we were treated. It’s not okay.

If I were to be very honest, the way things keep caring on it’s like they are trying to push me and a few others off the ledge, to do harm or whatever because their words are horrible. They’ve had enough time to get rid of that evidence so back to the insane exploitation of a disorder I live with that is nothing like any of them. I feel shame and disgust for myself for even having it.

You’ve taken the horror stories of past hell, called abuse and justified it. What a horrific moment in time when an advocate justified or rather decides what is deemed CA po*n and whats not that bad enough to allow or to use excuses or justification to avoid seen for what you all are. How many times I can remember someone saying “I didn’t mean to” “it’s not that big a deal, what’s it hurting”. Also to call me uptight and that I have a sex phobia and need help, bite me. You know NOTHING about me. Obviously!!

13 notes · View notes

desdinovas · 6 years

Text

untitled - part twelve

not my gif

pairing: ceo!tom x female reader

warnings: language, jealous!tom, fluff

word count: 3.4K

notes: intended to write smut for this one but many of you really wanted me to update so here’s this piece of rushed garbage. sorry it took me so long to post but, ya know, life

series masterlist

add yourself to my taglist!

“Can we go already?”

“We’ve been here for no longer than an hour. When was the last time you went out to have some fun?”

“If by ‘have fun’ you mean going to a club and being surrounded by dozens of drunk sweaty people who know nothing about personal space, then it’s been quite a while.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” You chuckled. “You really need to learn how to loosen up.”

Tom rolled his eyes playfully at you and grabbed your hand and gave you a shy look, almost as if to check that his action was fine. You smiled at him and squeezed his hand as reassurance, which made him grin.

“I really think I’m already too old for this.” Tom muttered as he grabbed your other hand and pulled you closer to his body, your foreheads connecting.

“You’re twenty three, not forty.” You pointed out. “Just stop playing the successfu business man card and act your age for once.” You teased with a hint of a smile.

“Are you always this bossy when you’re under the influence of alcohol?” Tom asked with a raised brow. You weren’t a hundred percent drunk, but you weren’t completely sober either.

“Sometimes, yeah.” You giggled as you played with Tom’s fingers. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” he shook his head slowly with a smirk dancing on his lips. “It’s actually kinda hot.”

You smiled and attached your lips to his. Tom’s hands quickly moved from yours and flew to your waist, bringing you balance. Your hands went to grab the back of his neck, your fingers playing with his curly locks. Tom groaned into the kiss at the feeling of your hands soothing his hair and pulled your body even closer to his. Tom’s hands gripped your waist tighter as he deepened the kiss, savouring every inch of your mouth. The loud music kept playing and everyone kept dancing to the beat of it not having a care in the world, but it felt like the two of you were the only people in the room. God, someone could be murdered right next to him and Tom wouldn’t give a shit about it. It’s been a while since he’s felt like nothing else mattered. Sure, his job and career always keep him busy and seem to be the only things that matter to him. But there’s a difference between something and someone. Having someone lift him off the ground to the point where the only thing he cared about was being with them wasn’t something to commonly happen to Tom. But being honest to himself, he missed it.

“You know,” Tom broke the kiss and connected your foreheads once again. “I thought you said you’d dance like a slut to me.”

“And I thought you didn’t like the word slut.” You giggled.

Tom chuckled and rubbed his thumb through your hips. “I don’t, just remindin’ ya what you told me.” He shrugged his shoulder with a cheeky grin.

He’s been more playful ever since you finished your paper. And being honest, you loved it. It was like Tom was finally showing you his true colours and you were finally seeing him be himself and not the bossy CEO you once knew.

“I’d really like to see you dance like a slut to me.” You smiled as you placed your hands over his chest, the alcohol doing the talking.

Tom’s brows furrowed as he laughed. “Think I’m already a slut for you, darling.” You let out a loud laugh and soon enough Tom joined you. “Don’t even know why I said that. Can we please stop using that word?” He asked with a smile still dancing on his lips.

“I like this Tom.” You confessed.

“What do you mean?”

“The playful and cheery version of yourself. I know you’re actually a softie and know how to have a good time, but you just cover it up with your successful CEO side while putting on a mean face.”

“Do I now?” Tom asked with a raised eyebrow as his eyes stared down at yours.

“You do, yeah.” You nodded. “And I know this is your true self.”

“I’d still like to consider myself somewhat mysterious.”

“Don’t stress about it, you still are.”

“Good.” You smiled and Tom leaned down to kiss you again, but someone pushed him. Tom let out a deep sigh, trying his best not to snap and the stranger apologised, but Tom just ignored him. You tried to suppress your laugh, knowing it’d only annoy him more. “If we’re not leaving can we at least go sit down? I get pushed one more time and I swear I’ll start throwing punches.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “Aye, no need to go all Mayweather.”

Tom chuckled as his fingers stroked your waist. “Might have to if people don’t stop acting like proper twats.”

“C’mon, grumpy pants. Let’s go find somewhere to sit.”

You grabbed Tom’s hand and dragged him across the club, looking for the bar so the two of you could sit. The bar was crowded with people ordering drinks and all the seats were taken, which made you groan in frustration. Tom laughed and scanned the place trying to find somewhere else you could sit. He pulled at your hand when he spotted a few couches at once corner and guided you towards them. The both of you walked hand in hand until you were met with a few people sitting on them already. There was a single couch and Tom quickly went to sit down on it, swiftly grabbing your hips and pulling you down to sit on his lap.

Tom sighed contently. “Much better, couldn’t stand another second being between so many people.”

“You’re something else.” You giggled as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“In a good way?” His hands held your waist tightly and rubbed his thumbs gently across the fabric of your dress.

You smiled at him and ran your hand through his brown curls.

“Oh, definitely.” You grinned and leaned down to place a kiss on his lips.

Tom hummed into the kiss as his hands gently squeezed your waist, his fingers tracing small circles on it. You found yourself quickly lifting your hands and placing them on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. You slightly tugged at his curls and Tom moaned under his breath in response. He bit your lower lip before you allowed his tongue inside your mouth. A few minutes of making out and getting lost into each other passed, neither of you planning on pulling away any time soon.

“(y/n), darling.” Tom mumbled in between kisses as his right hand cupped your cheek.

“Mhm.” You mumbled, still kissing his lips.

“Hate to break such a moment, but I gotta go take a piss.”

You chuckled over his mouth and pulled away. “Yeah, definitely ruined the moment.” You stroked the tiny bits of hair at the back of his head.

“Sorry, love, feel like I’m about to explode any second now.”

You let out a loud chuckle and moved away from his lap, moving to a side so he could stand up as well.

“Think I’m gonna go grab a drink.” You stated as you pointed towards the bar with your thumb.

Tom nodded his head. “Meet you there,” he then wrapped his arm around your waist and quickly pecked your lips. “Won’t be long.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him, “just go.”

Tom winked an eye at you before letting your waist go and heading towards the bathroom. You made your way to the bar and took a sit in front of it, giving your order to the bar man. He handed you your drink and you gave him a small smile and went to pay for it before a hand stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it,” a man you’ve never met before said with a grin and turned to look at the bar man. “That one’s on me.” And he handed him his own money.

You frowned in confusion but let it go, shrugging your shoulders and taking a sip of your drink.

“So, is your name as pretty as you?” The stranger asked you with a cheeky smile.

You tried your best to hide your annoyed expression, you really couldn’t be bothered to deal with some random guy trying to pick you up, but you sighed and tried to smile anyway.

“Depends on who’s judging, I guess.” You shrugged your shoulders, already wanting the conversation to be over. “I’m (y/n).”

“Ryan.” He nodded with a sided smile. “How come a stunning girl like you is here all on her own?”

You mentally rolled your eyes to the back of your head, already sick of the man tying to flirt.

“Not alone, boyfriend’s in the bathroom.” You pointed out hoping it would get him to leave you alone.

Ryan nodded again and you were counting down the seconds for Tom to come back.

Why the hell was he taking so long?

“Fancy joining me on the dance floor?” Ryan asked.

You faked a small laugh. “I’m okay, thank you. Already danced enough, my feet are kinda sore.”

“C’mon, love, a little dancing never killed anybody.” He insisted as he tried to take your hand in his.

It took everything in you not to snap, the guy had already gotten into your nerves, but you were too nice to tell him off. You laughed nervously and shook your head.

“Really, I’m fine.”

“Don’t be such a party po-“

“I believe she said no.”

You turned your head to see a very annoyed Tom standing right behind you and you let out a sigh of relief. His jaw was clenched and you noticed how his hands turned into fists as he glared at Ryan.

“I was just tryna dance with her, no need to get all aggressive about it.” Ryan chuckled, which only made Tom get angrier.

“I’ll get truly aggressive if you don’t fuck off, mate.” Tom threatened as his arm came to wrap around your waist.

Ryan held his hands up in surrender and made sure to leave before Tom started throwing punches. Tom positioned himself in front of you and gripped your waist tighter, looking you in the eyes.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you nodded as you fiddled with your fingers.

“Did he try to do anything?” He asked as his right hand came up to stroke your cheek. You leaned your face deeper in his hand and kissed his palm.

“Nah, he just tried to pick me up and bought me a drink. Told him I have a boyfriend but he insisted.”

Tom smiled at your last sentence. Being someone’s boyfriend was something he wasn’t used to, not after so long. His last girlfriend was when he was in college and when it was over he really didn’t think about getting in a relationship any time soon. Even if he wanted to, he was too busy, and his job was his number one priority. But then you came and everything changed. You turned his life around and suddenly his business wasn’t the most important thing anymore. He wasn’t used to being someone else’s, but he surely missed it.

“I really was about to punch the shit out of that dickhead.” Tom confessed in a whisper.

“Stop trying to prove you’re a boxer, I believe you.” You teased and he giggled before pecking your nose.

“Ready to go now?” You nodded your head and rubbed your nose against his, making him smile.

It was bright and early on Monday morning. Today was the day. You were finally going to turn in the paper you had poured your heart and soul into for the past weeks, and you couldn't have felt better. You pulled on a nice pair of dark skinny jeans and a coral-colored flowing top. Your eyeliner was absolutely perfect and your hair had some waves in it from the previous day's antics. Even your favourite black boots fit better than usual. It was going to be a good day.

Lindsay looked like she was having the opposite kind of morning. Her makeup was smudged, probably from going out with a group of classmates last night. The bags under her eyes were darker than usual and she sat hunched over at the table, flipping through a textbook and massaging her temples.

“Late night?" You laughed at her and poured some coffee into your travel mug. A little dash of mint cream and a spoonful of sugar brought it to the perfect sweetness.

"Shh," she hushed you. "I think I have a test in my class this afternoon, and I didn't study."

"You think you do?" You asked. "Didn't I get you a planner for your birthday? Maybe you should've used it." You slid your backpack on and caught a glimpse of your reflection in the small hallway mirror by the door. You were practically glowing. And who could blame you? Things were falling into place.

"Rub it in a little more," she chuckled. Her fingers lingered at the edge of the page. "Maybe if I finish this review chapter, I can get a nap in before class." She thought out loud.

You reached for the doorknob, but stopped short of opening it. "Hey Linds, can you do me a favor?" You asked with a small smile.

"Not sure," she looked up and raised her eyebrows. "What do you need? Oh, and you look hot." She said as she checked you out.

"Thanks. Do you think you could suck it up and hang at Tyler's place tonight?" You used your puppy dog pouting face to get your way.

After an over-dramatic sigh just for play, she nodded. "In the name of love." She sighed.

"We haven't even said the 'L' word." You shook your head with wide eyes.

"Isn't that a TV show about lesbians?"

"Bye, Linds, and thank you so so much. I owe you big time." You blew her a kiss and made your way out of the apartment and on to class.

Your walk to Professor Dubois's office was a pleasant one. The weather was nearly perfect; the sun reflected off the dew on the grass and practically glowed. Once in the building, you made your way to the office with purpose and knocked on her door. She looked up from her computer and nodded. "Ah, Ms. (y/l/n). To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?"

You unzipped your backpack and pulled out the finished product with a proud smile, handing it to her. "While it proved to be a real challenge, it was definitely not impossible to write about arguably the most private man in Los Angeles." You joked. "I'm actually really proud of this."

She looked down at the paper in her hands and nodded slowly. "Wonderful. Actually, I have a few minutes free here before my next class. Have a seat." She pointed to an empty chair across from her desk and you placed your bag on the floor in front of it as you sat down. She flipped the cover page over and slid her reading glasses into place.

You'd been graded on a lot of things in your life, as most college seniors have. You were no stranger to being graded in front of your face, either. But when she took out her red pen, your confidence wavered. Maybe it was because this became personal. Some of the best pieces of work were of a personal nature, though. You had a lot riding on this paper, and it was actually really rare that you loved what you wrote. But this was one of those exceptions; you really loved this piece of writing.

Minutes ticked by slowly and you watched with a cocked eyebrow as she scribbled some notes in the margins. She turned the page and nodded along as her eyes crossed over each line. When she was done, she looked up at you with a pleased smile.

"You made the seemingly impossible actually possible, well done Ms. (y/l/n). There are a few notes for you to consider for your future, but this is indeed some of your best work." She marked a passing grade at the top of the paper and you grinned widely. "I won't be making my official selections to send to Vanity Fair for another week, so keep up with your emails."

"Thank you so much.” You gushed. You stood up and made your way back, but hung in the doorway. "And Professor, you were right... I definitely found an unexpected friend through this project. So... really, thank you." She nodded at you with the same professional smile and then turned back to her computer.

"I have a surprise for you." You greeted Tom at the door of your apartment and pulled him by his hands in so you could shut the door. He had come straight from work and was still dressed up in his suit and tie. "Get comfortable. Consider my home yours as well."

He smiled softly at you and carefully took off his fancy shoes. You loved the way he had started to relax now; the smile on his face was a welcome change to the straight faced tight lipped Tom you had known for weeks. "Your home is quaint," he noted.

You rolled your eyes and reached into the freezer. "That just means small. I get it, you're rich and have a big fancy house." You teased with your nose scrunched up. "Take a seat on the couch."

"What do you have planned for us tonight?" He asked curiously. He took his jacket off and laid it across the back of the couch before loosening his tie and sliding that off as well. After unbuttoning a few of his shirt buttons, he finally sat down.

"I showed you one part of being goofy and childish by going out and partying," you said as you made your way over to him. "But now you're going to see a different side of it all." You held your hands behind your back and stood in front of him now.

He cocked his head to see behind you, but you blocked him. "(y/n), what do you have?" He laughed.

With a lip-biting smile, you pulled a pint of Ben and Jerry's Coffee Toffee Bar Crunch ice cream out from behind your back. "My favourite." You admitted.

"And where are the bowls?"

"That's the childish part." You nodded and moved your other hand from behind your back and showed him two spoons. "We're gonna eat it straight from the pint." You handed him one and sat down next to him, bringing your legs up on his lap.

He placed his warm hands on your exposed thighs and rubbed the skin softly. "So is your paper going to the magazine?" He asked as you fumbled with the seal of the ice cream.

"Won't know for another week," you shook your head. "But I got a good grade! Tom, she loved it." You dug your spoon into the fresh ice cream and tapped his shoulder. "Open up." You grinned.

At first he gave you that look that said 'really, (y/n)?', but then he sighed and parted his lips enough for you slide the spoon in.

"Mmm," he sighed as he chewed a piece of toffee. "Whoa. That's good stuff. And she should like it. It was one of the best articles I've read. And trust me, I read a lot of them."

"Thanks," you said as you took a bite of your own. Tom used his own spoon to go back in for more. "It was weird not being with you all day." You admitted.

"I missed you." He smiled that sweet smile of his and you were sure that it was a special one, only for you. "It's going to be an adjustment, for sure."

"I have a question for you." You said as you watched him chew another piece of toffee in the ice cream. He raised his eyebrows as if urging you to continue. "Will you stay over here tonight?"

"I have work tomorrow." He reminded you.

"So we'll go to bed early," you shrugged. "Please? Pretty please?" You used the same puppy dog pout on him that you did on Lindsay earlier that day.

"Oh, wow." He laughed weakly. No one could resist that face. "Fine, I'll stay. Just don't use that face."

"Deal." You laughed and leaned forward to place a sweet, coffee flavored kiss on his lips.

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aeneamaim-blog · 5 years

Text

Low Power

“Do you think they’ll come?”

“I sent the notification.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

Klimich fumbled with the datapad, furrowing his brow in feigned distraction. A faint fizzing sound filled the silence briefly, then faded back into nothingness.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see her staring at him in that way that meant he had to come up with an answer, and it would be easier to give it now than later.

“Sendra, how long has it been?” he said, declining to return her gaze.

“Since?”

“Since they left.”

“It’s uh,” she said. “Three? Three months?”

“Three months since that wormhole collapsed behind them,” he said with a sigh as he stood and walked to the lounge’s vista window, looking out into the stars. “And not a word since.”

“You don’t know that that’s what happened. Plus, Anoikis is a huge place, and so is New Eden. Who knows what could be keeping them.”

Tiny flares ignited from distant, unseen sources and streaked across the ink-black heavens, disappearing in a blossom of fire as the torpedoes hit the Astrahus’ shields. Static filled the air again with every impact.

He struggled to collect himself. Sendra knew what was happening as well as he did, but they couldn’t say it out loud. Neither, he imagined, could any of the thirty thousand plus other souls gathered together to witness this spectacle elsewhere on the citadel. Souls that, as Upwell’s appointed quality control director, Klimich felt responsible for in the capsuleers’ absence.

She moved next to him as he gazed out at the navigation lanes extending into space, grabbing his shoulder. “This has happened before. They’ve forgotten to fuel the citadel before. You remember, don’t you?”

He did, very well. The capsuleers were preoccupied with whatever it was that kept capsuleers busy when they weren’t killing Sleepers or huffing gas or sitting in their ships in the docking bay. The citadel ran out of fuel and went low power, and not long after roamers came. The shields were half gone before the capsuleers’ finally materialized and drove the enemy off grid.

This time, Klimich knew, was different. Never before had the small handful of capsuleers who owned and operated the Astrahus let a low power event last this long. Never before had they disappeared completely for this long either.

It took six weeks of their absence for Klimich to admit it to himself: they had been rolled out.

Always in search of new resources, new bounty, new “content” as he’d heard them call it, the capsuleers aggressively mass-rolled all the holes in their little corner of Anoikis, hoping for better luck with the next static connection that appeared out of the aether.

It was a risky tactic, but it paid off -- most of the time. Klimich occasionally heard of individual pilots having holes collapse behind them, much to the delight of those other capsuleers spared that fate. Could it be possible that they all could have been on the other side of an evaporated hole? Or could they have perhaps all been podded by some malicious force, their fresh clones awakening in some impossibly far away system in known space?

Never before had Klimich imagined this to be possible. He just took it as a given that precautions were taken for that kind of disaster, and that there would always be a route back to the citadel. Now he wondered why he was ever so confident.

This revelation, if it was a revelation at all, wasn’t something he could share with Sendra of course, nor could he confide it in anyone else on the citadel. No doubt they too had some inkling of what happened, somewhere deep down in their psyche, just as he had. But there were jobs to do, children to raise, life to live. Letting such a dreadful realization rise to the surface of their minds would ruin that thin veneer of calm and order.

It helped too that this “low power” event was hardly as bad as it sounded. Life support, climate control, lights -- they all stayed on throughout. Were it not for a red hue that illuminated the common corridors around the citadel, most people living there might not even notice there was a problem.

Klimich knew better. He knew how juicy a target they must look, floating in deep space, far from the the system’s sun or any of its planets. Anyone with the inclination and means could destroy this station. It would take less than 24 hours if they knew what they were doing.

Against all odds, such a foe had not materialized in the three months since they last saw their capsuleer protectors. At least not until this morning.

The Astrahus’ news and net never missed an opportunity to report on any ships spotted in system. Usually it was just one ship at a time, sometimes two. Sensors occasionally picked up a wreck floating in dead space.

Sometimes, maybe twice a month, routine long-distance scans picked up small fleets. Crowds would gather in the docking bay viewports, anxiously awaiting their masters’ return. They never came, but that didn’t stop Klimich from feeling immense relief that those anonymous fleets weren’t much concerned with him or his Astrahus.

Two days ago though, something especially unique happened, something Klimich saw for himself.

It began like any other day in the Astrahus control center, where Klimich spent most of his mornings. The room was a half-moon shape, terminals lined in rows before an immense, meter-thick curved window that filled the crew’s view when they weren’t busy at their terminals.

Klimich’s job was mostly delegation, but he still made a point to show up. He felt it made his underlings work harder and besides, he liked to feel connected with even the smallest goings on inside the citadel. It provided a false sense of control, a feeling he otherwise lacked without the capsuleer’s oversight.

The proximity beacon flashed for maybe 30 seconds before anyone reacted. The small, neon-green light was always flashing, at least when the capsuleers were still in system, and to anyone who had worked in the control room for long enough it just became part of the background. This was the first time in months anyone could remember seeing it however.

An Astero, about two kilometers off the artificial “east” of the Astrahus. It was decloaked, just sitting there. Klimich looked up the transponder information. The pilot’s name he didn’t recognize, but his group -- or rather, his “alliance” -- stood out.

“Delivery? For us? In that thing?” his assistant asked as he looked over Klimich’s shoulder.

Klimich hesitated. In a prior life, before Upwell even existed, before he ever even considered living in wormhole space, he served on a small transport ship. The pilot --- a capsuleer -- was the impatient sort, and often looked for short cuts between pickups and deliveries.

One such route took them through a wormhole just three jumps outside Amarr. Their Iteron met an unglamorous end shortly thereafter, exploding 5,000 meters away from safety of high-sec.

Klimich survived, along with a dozen or so other crew members. The capsuleer reached out to him later, after Klimich was transported back to the Imperial Family Bureau. Not to apologize, of course, but to share something he’d received after the disaster: a receipt for a “torpedo delivery”. It tickled the capsuleer greatly. Klimich, who had just lost ten friends and crewmates, wasn’t quite as thrilled.

Since that incident, he’d heard more tales of these people. They frequented wormholes without actually living in them, though you wouldn’t know it by talking with one of them. Their leader was famous throughout the capsuleer community, even if he was a better propagandist than pilot.

To their credit, they usually stuck to hunting down the odd Heron or Venture -- the crews of which were few, if any. Despite his history with them, Klimich felt confident that they were among the more humane capsuleer groups in space not exactly known for its humanity.

One thing stuck in his mind though: a rumor he’d heard the Astrahus’ owners talking about just before they disappeared. Apparently, the “delivery agents” (as they called themselves) were organizing operations in search of low-powered structures. Unable to enter or plunder the citadels on their own, they resorted to destroying them instead -- and claiming for themselves whatever capsuleer booty that escaped into space intact.

While it was just the kind of low-risk, high-reward job he knew them to be famous for, it didn’t seem in keeping with their usually limited scope. Did they even have the numbers, munitions and skills to destroy a POS, much less a Astrahus like his own? It seemed improbable.

Klimich’s reminiscing was interrupted by a buzzing behind him. His assistant yelped in surprise.

“The Astero is hacking into our security, Director. His ship scanner appears to be warming up as well.”

The buzzing continued even as Klimich and his crewed helplessly watched the capsuleer successfully broke through the Astrahus’ security, claiming whatever information he was in search of. Low-powered or no, Klimich lacked the authority to initiate the Astrahus’ proper active defenses.

Abruptly, the klaxon stopped. The Astero had cloaked up again, and presumably warped back to the wormhole connection from whence it came.

The proximity beacon stayed dim for days thereafter. To Klimich’s profound irritation, the long distance scans -- usually done twice a day, now done at least once an hour on his orders -- also revealed nothing. They were completely alone in system, at least according to all the means they had available to them.

Klimich barely slept, but he couldn’t stay busy in the control room lest he cause concern among his crew. To them this was an unusual but not necessarily threatening development. Something to keep them busy and occupy the Astrahus’ news cycle. Certainly not something that might spell their doom.

His residence’s common lounge offered a view out into space, but didn’t provide Klimich any way to ping a long distance scan. His datapad gave him access to the system’s local channel, which he checked frequently despite knowing that no one would be so foolish as to reveal themselves there.

So it was that Klimich found himself staring into the void with Sendra by his side, him watching the torpedoes getting “delivered” to the Astrahus’ shields, her searching his face for some sign of hope. He declined to offer her any.

“When the shields go down, there might be riots,” he began. “Gather your things.”

“What? Klimich, come now, this can’t be it? The citadel has defenses. It’s full to the brim with ships.”

Klimich scowled despite himself, turning to her finally. “Defenses we cannot man, and ships we cannot fly. You know this, Sendra.”

The confusion in her eyes melted away into despair.

“Gather what you can carry. We are going to head to the control room.”

The control room was overflowing with his extended staff, only a quarter of which were actually doing anything. The rest were there both for the view of the one-sided battle outside the citadel, and the control room’s proximity to the citadel’s escape pods. No one was going to evacuate this early, of course, but it appeared as if the rest of the Astrahus’ population was catching up to the danger they were all in.

He, Sendra and the rest of his crew watched anxiously as the Astrahus’ shield slowly-but-steadily dropped to nothing. The proximity beacon continued to flash right up until the last of the bombers cloaked up.

“Now what?” someone -- Klimich couldn’t see who -- murmured. The voice was anxious and broken.

“We wait,” Klimich responded, standing and walking down the aisle to the front of the auditorium-style control center. “Things are going to get bad outside of this room real quick. We need to limit the damage we do to ourselves until such time as the capsuleers return.”

“Will they though?” a different voice, again buried in the crowd, asked.

“I’ve sent the notification. That’s all we can do,” Klimich said. Optimism wasn’t going to go far with these people now that they were facing the reality of their situation. His only recourse was to hope they still felt a duty to see this thing out without devolving into the panic he knew was rising outside the center’s doors.

The next twelve hours were tense, but they went better than Klimich planned. Security details were sent to guard the Astrahus’ supply stockpiles and escape shuttle hatches. Violence was kept to a minimum as people mostly stayed in their housing units in the center of the massive citadel, close to their families and friends. Klimich ordered some of his favorite holovids to be broadcast on all networks.

The control center was too busy to enjoy them however as Klimich’s crew performed regular long range scans, scoured the capsuleers’ records for possible alternate forms of communication and delved into the histories of the various pilots assaulting their home.

At the appointed time, the proximity beacon began to flash once again. Stealth bombers, strategic cruisers and even a Tempest appeared on grid with the station. Long-range scans picked up a transport somewhere far off into space, no doubt waiting to scoop whatever wealth the Astrahus dropped. The first impact of their munitions vibrated the deck underneath Klimich’s feet.

He breathed slow and steady as he again transmitted the notification to their absentee capsuleers. The act provoked a surge of blind optimism in him, as if he could sense their saviors’ proximity.

Reality quickly came flooding back. The Astrahus’ hull wasn’t holding as well as the shield. With every exterior sector that lost atmosphere, with each part of the energy grid that went offline, with each sensor cluster that detected a new enemy ship on grid, Klimich could feel his crews’ confidence waning.

A small, pleasant-sounding ding broke through the tension in the control room. No, it couldn’t be. Klimish raced up to the main cluster of terminals. Security footage from the docking bay confirmed it: a capsuleer was in station, sitting in a Crane blockade runner.

“Who is it? Try to raise her.” Klimich asked, almost an afterthought in his excitement. One of the newer capsuleer recruits, he saw, not someone with any kind of permissions to control the Astrahus’ defenses. They must be trying to escape while they still could.

“No response, sir.”

“Sound for evacuation, have everyone make their way to the docking bay,” Klimich said, immediately wondering if he was being too hasty. The Astrahus’ hull was failing though, and there might not be time to give the order later.

Klaxons blared through the control room door. Klimich ordered that all non-vital personnel be among those evacuated, and gave the rest a choice whether to stay or go. Sendra didn’t budge, neither did Klimich’s assistant. Half of the rest couldn’t so much as look Klimich in the eye as they slouched toward the exit.

Klimich pulled up security footage of the access terminals to the docking bay. Crowds began to form, far too many people to fit into the Crane’s cargo bay, much less its actual habitable living quarters. Citadel security was breaking down in front of the mass of bodies.

Still the capsuleer failed to respond to attempts at communication. She sat in her pod nestled in the heart of the Crane, not making any move to allow the crowd in. Then, suddenly, the Crane went dark. The capsuleer’s pod emerged from the vessel and hung in space as the citadel’s automated controls moved it into storage.

Another craft appeared just as the Crane left. It was a Helios -- a small, malformed exploration ship, the kind of craft the capsuleers used to scout and map chains down the wormhole network. Quickly the capsuleer’s pod fit itself into the pilot bay for the Helios, and its external lights illuminated.

Klimich pulled the numbers up on the ship. Crew, minimal. It could even be flown with only the capsuleer at the controls. Some cargo space, but not nearly enough. Klimich imagined bodies suffocating together in total darkness stuffed inside the Helios. A shiver ran up his neck.

Another gentle ding signified a request to undock, which the Astrahus’ automated systems immediately granted. The capsuleer was leaving, leaving with no one else on board but herself.

“She’s scouting a route in. The capsuleers are coming back,” his assistant said in a whisper, almost to himself.

Klimich clenched his jaw and looked for the Helios outside the control room’s windows. It came into view on its way out of the undock, still tethered to the Astrahus and thus invulnerable to the attackers.

The datapad in his hand vibrated quietly. He held it up discreetly, blocking Sendra and his assistant’s view of it with his body. It was a message, sent in the system’s local channel by the capsuleer still drifting in tether range.

“gf”

The Helios turned just then, aiming toward some empty spot in the middle of space. It cloaked as it warped off grid. Klimich, in his last instant, imagined he could hear screams over the Astrahus’ sirens.

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ohmygillygoshoppler · 7 years

Text

@bunnythemurderer

i have made this for you! I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it!

Jordi heaved as she bolted down the alley. Police sirens screamed in the streets behind her. Her lungs burned with all the fighting for breath. She felt like her legs would give out from under her; like her lungs would explode. It was dark, but she had a good visual on the high fence in front of her, growing ever higher as she came closer. She kept on running though, and was followed in suit.

A huge hand clamped down on her shoulder as she approached, and Strife was looking in all directions. "Here," he started, quickly shrugging the black backpack off of his shoulders and chucking it into her chest. "Alright, I'll throw you over the fence, and you make a run for it. I'll hold off the piggies until you get to the car. Then, I want you to bring her 'round front here and wait for me, but stay low. I'f those guys brought back up, I'll want you out of trouble."

Jordi scoffed and blew a tuft of hair from her flushed face. Her normally pretty and soft features were twisted into an ugly scowl. "If you wanted me to stay out of trouble, you should have just left me at home!"

He waved her off as she shoved her arms through the straps and turned again for the fence. Strife towered over her, looking back the direction they had come. The sirens still wailed, and they were getting closer and closer. Without any further protest, Jordi started up the fence, grabbing through the diamond-weaved fencing, getting a good final push on her rear by the Horseman's big hands.

With a shove, Strife nearly launched her straight over the fence. She landed on her back with a resounding thud, knocking the wind from her. Strife himself winced at the impact, offering a measly "My bad," when she promptly flipped him off, lying on the pavement. She wanted to spit a curse at him, but couldn't find the strength to do so. She didn't have any time, anyhow. The cops were already approaching. The stature of the nephilim alone was enough to conceal Jordi's shape behind the fence, but she knew if they saw her, they'd be in huge trouble.

"Shit," She hissed, pulling herself to her feet and limping away into the shadows. She didn't turn to see if her friend was alright, she knew he'd be. She focused her intentions on getting to the car like he said. She fingered around in her pockets one more time, making sure she absolutely had the keys.

Jordi quickly circled the complex, weary of flashing lights and officers voices. She heard shouting coming from behind her. She ducked and crawled in a few places, behind cars and trash cans, trying her best to avoid detection. As she stealthily made her way back to where Strife parked his car, she wondered what was in this bag that the coppers wanted so bad. She was half-tempted to look, but after some consideration, she found she didn't want to.

When at last she felt she was safe enough to walk about freely and search, she ran around the parking lot looking for their ride. She couldn't believe she had forgotten where they parked! At a time like this?! Way to go, Jordan, you're a grade-A, farm-fresh genius...

She spotted the dark Lamborghini hidden in the indoor parking garage adjacent to the parking lot. Silently, she thanked her lucky stars and bolted over. She listened as she searched her pockets for the keys. There was still flashing lights everywhere outside, and she still heard voices, but no screams. No gunshots. It sounded like the fuzz were just... talking.

She pulled the sole key out of her jacket pocket, inserting into the driver side door and hopping inside. She immediately started the car and switched off the interior lights. This was actually the first time Strife let her drive his car, now that she thought about it! She could just drive away right now... Just drive off... and leave... Strife... behind... Pick up Simóne and take the car to Canada...

Nah, he had some explaining to do. And her jacket.

She composed herself as best she could and pulled the car out of the parking lot, dimming the headlights and cruising down the street. She kept an eye peeled for her buddy. The squad cars were starting to pull out now. Anxiety threatened to overwhelm her for a moment; had Strife been detained? No, impossible, he's way too tough to be taken down by a few noodle-armed Blues.

Sucking her lower lip through her teeth, Jordi glanced about. She couldn't see anyone other than po-po at this point.

Suddenly, the passenger car door swung open as the car was still moving, a leather-clad nehpilim barging in and scaring the complete life out of his human driver. She had to stop herself from screaming, lest she attract unwanted attention, so she ended up just making a weird yelping sound.

"What the fuck are you even doing? Aren't they still after you?" she hissed, keeping control of her countenance as she continued to slowly drive on by.

Strife was currently shrinking into the floorboards, making himself scarce. "Yeah, but they aren't after you. So just drive."

The blonde youth almost stopped the car at the horseman's remark. "So that's why you brought me here?! To be your getaway driver?! First, you decide to break into the police station and steal- I dunno- important evidence to a crime, or something, and you bring me along for the ride?! Are you out of your mind?"

"Relax, Jojo. I knew you'd be alright tagging along. Besides, I still have to show you the thing."

Jordan hissed through her teeth, rolling her eyes. She didn't pay any heed to his nicknames or his silly mind games. She was fuming. Now, she didn't care if the police saw her or Strife. All she wanted was to get out of this town and go home. It was super late and she was beyond tired. "We are not seeing the thing. We are going back to Simóne's. Then, you're going home. That's it."

She had pulled off onto the freeway now. Strife was arguing with her on something, but she paid it no mind. Every other word was, "uh-huh," or, "yeah, okay," and for about 20 minutes, Strife was quiet. Sounded like he'd burned himself out for a while. He didn't say much, but he did mess around, looking in the backseat for his backpack. Jordi didn't answer when he asked where it was. He found it anyways.

Curiosity snatched her attention away from the road for a split second to see what he had; what was in the bag. She thought for a moment he would take out something horrible, like fingers in a bag, or something even weirder~

She looked back at the road in front of her. Not too many other cars. The streetlight dotted the roads and skies ahead, coming in bright flashes over the dash from time to time. Jordi was brought to look again when she heard the familiar "click, click" of a gun.

It was Mercy. Strife was cradling the mechanism almost tenderly in his two hands, grinning down as he fingered the trigger.

"Don't you dare fire that thing right now." The human youth grumbled.

"I wasn't going to, Jojo..." the other cooed.

"Stop calling me Jojo."

She huffed through her nose, frowning. "Why did the cops have Mercy? Don't you keep your guns close?" she inquired impishly.

After some more fiddling, he brought the gun to his lips with a resounding smack. "Things get stolen a lot more than ya think. Fury says I'm complacent, but I can think of a dozen times where I've actually really lost them. Think they're cursed."

That brought a few giggles forth. Jordi agreed, both with Fury's statements, and the cursed guns. She wondered what had to have distracted him long enough for him to lose his weaopon to the cops. When she asked him as much, he said to just, "consider the fact that nobody was harmed by the nephilim weapon, and all is now as it should be." Strife then started digging around in the rest of the bag. It sounded like boxes and bags.

please no more guns...

"Yo," Strife blurted, startling her.

"What?"

"I take everything back about the Police. They're not as bad as I thought."

Jordan's eyebrows furrowed at that. "What do you mean?~"

A wild smile. "The bag! The thing? It's what I wanted to show you!"

Oh god. Please, no.

"What's in the bag?" she reluctantly asked as she pulled off the exit ramp towards their home.

They stopped at the red light when Strife lifted a plastic-wrapped brick over to her face. "Smell this."

"What the hell is that man?" Jordan squealed, elbowing the arm away from her face. "What the fu-"

"Just smell it, c'mon!"

She slowed the car as she reluctantly sniffed the package. It smelled like... It smelled like...

Simóne? Oh wait...

"Oh my god, I was so scared!" She squawked, laughing as they stopped at a light. "I thought it was cocaine!"

The elder Horseman laughed. "What makes you think- oh shit, no. I was, aha!-" His sentence broke off into a bought of loud laughter. "Nah, cocaine smells like ether, not earth."

Blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she slowly faced him, examining the contents of his bag with a great smile. "What?"

"What?" Yellow almond eyes blinked over at nervous brown ones. He changed the subject. "Hey, you think if I give this to Simóne, she'll finally let me into her sage garden?"

She was driving again now, albeit nervously. She was trying not to be obvious she didn't want to get pulled over. "Not a chance. Her plants are hr babies. She'll give you trimmings. Nothing more, nothing less."

She glanced at the clock on the stereo; 3:15 am. Gods, she was so tired... Did she have to work tomorrow or not? Or wait, did she have to work today? Yesterday, tomorrow today... She wasn't sure anymore. All she was worried about was turning onto the right street to get home. One more street...

She flinched at the sudden pressure on her thigh, accidentally slapping his hand there.

"My bad. Look, I wouldn'a brought you along If I knew they'd throw my baby in a bag of pot. It was there, I wasn't wearing my holster, I panicked and just grabbed the bag. I'll never ask anything of you ever again. Here,"

As the two of them, pulled up into drive to their house, Strife gently tucked Mercy into the hem of his pants, sliding the bag into her lap. She yawned and held the bag up in her fist, " this stuff is pretty much useless to me. I don't think you smoke but you can just give it to Simóne if she wants it."

for the first time all evening, a smile slowly graced Jordan's features. her dark eyes were tired and her shoulders looked heavy but she still smiled. "Okay, sure. I'll see you tomorrow."

Strife leaned over and grinned, shrugging off the large leather jacket. his yellow eyes seem to Glow against the Blackness of the shadowy car, and he looked kind of creepy for a second.

"Hey, if you're not doing anything tomorrow night, maybe we can do something a little more lax, like see a movie or something. I've been to the cinema few times I think it's pretty fun."

A chuckle. "Sure thing, bud. Sounds cool."

Without thinking, she leaned over and placed a kiss on the edge of his temple. Afterwards, she crawled out of the driver side and shuffled her way up the stairs towards her home. The car was already driving away at this point, but she had a feeling he was thinking about her. It was only until she knocked on the door that she realized she had accidentally kissed him. Oh well, she was too tired to worry about it.

Jordan stood there for a moment in silence, waiting for her friend to open the door. The overwhelming smell of the herbs and flowers growing nearby was dreadfully invigorating at this point. She felt like she could smell the sages and the rosemaries as if they were right beneath her nose.

Quietly, Simóne could be heard unlocking the door. She opened it standing in the doorway with her hair down and wearing a long pink nightgown.

"Where have you been? I've been trying to call you all night. I was worried."

She stretched her arms out from inside the house, drawing Jordan in for a great big hug. She smelled like roses.

"Sorry, my phone died and we've been on the road all night I haven't had a car charger..."

"That's alright. You look tired. Come on inside and I'll get you ready for bed would you like some tea?" Simóne asked in a concerned voice.

Jordi chucked again, finally returning the hug. "Yeah. That sounds nice."

#lets do something illegal #darksiders #strife #muse

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impalasutra · 7 years

Text

Yes

Title: Yes Challenge(s): @spnkinkbingo; Square filled: gags

Pairing(s): Sister!Reader x Crowley

Word Count: 2226

Rating: Explicit Warnings: cursing, bondage, ball gag, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm delay, begging, chance of getting caught, dominant Crowley/not-so-submissive reader

Summary: Crowley and Y/N Winchester have a professional relationship that can only be called antagonistic but when they’re alone, well… actually they’re still pretty antagonistic.

A/N: I’ve never written Crowley before! He’s pretty fun to play with (Kink Bingo has made me consider a lot of new characters). I hope you enjoy!

Yes -

You were out of breath and covered in viscera. Your brothers looked much the same but Crowley… fucking Crowley didn’t have a spot of blood on his suit or hair out of place. He was standing beside you and moved to push your hair out of your face for you but your hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Touch me and I’ll run you through with an angel blade.”

Crowley rolled his eyes at your obstinance and clicked his tongue. “You’re such a tease.”

You threw his hand back at him like it pained you to touch the demon. Sam and Dean had always had a careful and tenuous relationship with Crowley but yours had never moved past downright antagonistic. “Fuck you, Crowley.”

“Oh, darling, you wish.”

You ignored the demon’s jab and turned to your brothers. “Can we go home now, please? I am in serious need of a shower and a burger.”

Instead of answering you, Dean turned to Crowley. “We should get out of here before she actually decides to try an angel blade. She gets a little hangry after a big hunt,” he teased.

You gave your traitor brother the best bitchface you had in your arsenal and stalked off towards the Impala. You tugged on the door handle impatiently, wanting nothing more than to slam the door behind you to piss of Dean but, of course, the car was locked. Your brothers joined you a few seconds later and as soon as Dean unlocked the door, you pulled it open and climbed into the back seat, stretching out along the leather and closing your eyes, intent on catching a nap on the ride back to the bunker.

Later that night you were regretting that decision as you tossed and turned in your bed, unable to sleep because you weren’t tired. Until, suddenly, you weren’t alone.

“Get out of my room,” you seethed at Crowley. As much as it sounded like a dismissal, it was actually in an invitation.

“Come now, pet, that’s not very nice,”

You and Crowley had talked about your arrangement all of once but it had been a very thorough discussion. He had shown up in your room after a hunt and made his intentions clear, pressing his lips to yours in a fierce kiss before pushing you back onto your bed. When your brain had finally caught up with what was happening, you had shoved the demon off of you.

“Get away from me,” you had snarled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You wiped at your mouth and stared the King of Hell down.

“Misreading the situation, apparently,” Crowley had replied, and then he was gone.

You had been all worked up from the kiss and considered just finishing the job yourself but your curiosity had won out. When Crowley ignored your phone calls, you had decided to try a less optional form of communication: a summoning spell. Once he was back in your room again, you had fixed Crowley with a withering glare. “Why did you leave?”

Crowley had looked truly baffled. “You made it quite clear that you aren’t interested.”

It had been your turn to be confused; that was not the answer you had been expecting. “You’re a demon,” you had replied, “you’ve never had consent issues stop you before.”

Understanding dawned on Crowley’s face, then, and you had been simultaneously grateful and pissed off that he had managed to see through you so quickly.”

“In matters of the bedroom, consent is sexy, pet,” Crowley had said, causing you to blush.

The two of you had then entered into what could only be described as negotiations. You planned for every scenario you could think of and then for the ones Crowley came up with that you never would have imagined. Limits were set, safewords and signals were established, birth control was discussed, and so much more. By the time you were done, many decisions had been made and one thing above all was clear: when you and Crowley were alone, the word “no” meant “don’t you dare stop.”

“I just need to hear that one sweet word and we can conclude this deal and get on with more pleasurable activities,” Crowley slyly commented.

You were on to him, though. You had clearly and obviously consented during your conversation but you had been careful to never say “yes” to the demon and it was one word you swore you’d never say to Crowley. “We seal this deal like the rest of them” you asked, knowing that Crowley had a soft spot for his days as a crossroads demon.

“Is there any other way?” Crowley replied.

In response, you had grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. It soon turned heated and before you knew it, Crowley was on top of you. It was a fight for dominance full of passion and anger; it was everything you had needed and wanted from the demon and neither of you came out the clear winner. Though you were sure neither of you had lost, either.

Once both of you had finished, Crowley had climbed out of your bed. “You will say ‘yes’ eventually, pet,” he assured you and then he was gone.

Now, a few weeks into your arrangement with the demon, Crowley was in your room again. He was a regular in your fantasies these days and you had gotten to play a number of those scenarios out in your bed. Tonight, you were feeling particularly antagonistic, though. You pushed Crowley away again, curious as to what he would do.

He looked at you with narrowed eyes, contemplating his next move. You hadn’t used your safe word so he pressed forward, clearly seeing the challenge in your eye. Crowley snapped his fingers and you felt ropes coil around your wrists and pulling them together and above your head. That was a power you didn’t realize he had as a demon and you fiercely pulled at the ropes that held your wrists as more ropes wound their way around your ankles, pulling them toward the corners of your bed and spreading your legs.

You opened your mouth and began spitting words at Crowley. From his face, you could tell he was surprised. He had likely expected expletives, maybe even your safe word but you had managed to shock the King of Hell.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica po…”

Crowley quickly recovered, snapping his fingers again before you could get too deep into the exorcism ritual. Without any warning, your mouth was full with something round and hard and you could feel straps winding their way over your cheeks and around behind your head. The object in your mouth had a little give to it and you bit down as you stared daggers at the demon.

“You can’t exorcise me if you can’t talk, pet,” Crowley explained. “I should have tried one of these sooner, a ball gag is a good look for you.” His voice and face were nonchalant but Crowley was watching you like a hawk. You had discussed a scenario like this but hadn’t tried it yet and he was gaging your reaction to being thrown into the deep end like this, looking to see if you would tap out.

When he was content that you were interested in continuing, Crowley turned his attention to your clothes. “These are going to have to go, he told you as his fingers ran along the waistline of your pajama shorts. Crowley grabbed the fabric with both hands and gave it a sharp tug, tearing the fabric and pulling it away from your bound body. He did the same with your t-shirt and panties so that you were laying bare before him.

This was the sixth pair of panties that Crowley had destroyed in as many weeks, you mused. You really needed to consider sleeping naked after hunts.

Crowley took his time drinking in your naked form and you flushed under his scrutiny as a trickle of drool escaped from the corner of your mouth.

“Beautiful,” you heard the demon whisper as he knelt on the bed between your spread legs, leisurely running a finger between your folds.

Once he had you squirming against his hand, your moans muffled by the ball in your mouth as you pulled at the ropes around your wrists, Crowley laid down, settling himself between your legs.

The heady sensation of the bondage and the gag combining with having the King of Hell between your legs had your back arching off the bed at the first touch of his tongue. Crowley wrapped an arm around your hips to hold them in place and he looked up into your face. “Just tell me if this gets to be too much, pet,” he said with a smirk, knowing full well that you couldn’t comply.

“mmmmmphk uuuuhhh,” you responded in an attempt to tell the demon to fuck off. You’re unintelligible sounds only served to release more drool onto your face, though, and Crowley paid it little attention as he dove back in between your legs.

His tongue was like magic and Crowley had you teetering on the edge in no time.

And then he just left you hanging there.

Every time you were about to release, Crowley would let up and change his technique so as not to allow you the pleasure that was ready to explode through your body. Once he pulled away completely and just watched as your walls clamped down around nothing, the sound of your struggles mixing with your muffled cursing, pleas for mercy, and heavy breathing to create a sweet cacophony of sound that was music to his ears.

The teasing went on for what felt like hours. Crowley would bring you to the greatest height of pleasure, only to force you to ride the edge until you couldn’t hold your orgasm back any longer. Then he would back off and allow you some time of lighter stimulation to recover before he would start the cycle all over again. It was hell. It was heaven.

Crowley once again brought you to the edge of your orgasm, this time slowly pumping his fingers inside of you, his thumb circling your clit as he held you there. “Do you want to cum, pet?” he asked and you nodded your head furiously. “Use your words; tell me what I want to hear,” Crowley commanded before asking again, “Do you want to cum, pet?”

“Essssh” you cried out around the gag as best as you could, your head thrashing back and forth as the pressure built higher and higher in your abdomen. You were so lost to the pleasure and you were certain you were going to combust if you didn’t get to orgasm soon.

Crowley looked up at you with a smirk and your eyes went wide with realization. You may have been gagged but Crowley had clearly gotten you to say ‘yes.’ He had won and you both knew it.

His mouth connected with your sex again, this time with even more excitement and determination as he lapped at your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking over it with his expert tongue. Crowley rewarded you with the orgasm you had been craving. He had kept you on the edge and held off your pleasure for so long that you saw stars and screamed into the gag as your release flooded through you.

When you came down from your high, Crowley was standing next to you, adjusting the ropes that were holding your hands above your head. Once he was content he looked at you and smiled wickedly.

“Ah, good, you’re back with us, pet,” Crowley noted as he picked up your phone from the bedside table and began to fiddle with it. You narrowed your eyes at him as he continued speaking, still unable to speak yourself.

“It’s about 7:30 AM and one of your brothers is already awake,” he told you. “Let’s see how good you are with knots, shall we?” You looked at him in confusion, unsure of where this line of thinking was going or how his two statements were related. The look he gave you in return was a distinct reminder that you were dealing with not only a demon, but the King of Hell.

“I’m going to use your phone to text Sam,” he explained. “Taking into account the amount of time it will take him to read the text, respond to it, grumble about you not answering him, and then how long it will take him to worry that his precious little sister isn’t responding to him, before he finally lumbers down the hall to your room, I’d say you have about... four minutes to escape from your bonds before the Moose comes through that door,” Crowley indicated the entrance to your bedroom.

Your eyes went wide and you mmmmmphed into the gag that was still in your mouth. Crowley paused for a moment, looking down at your naked form with a glint in his eye.

“Starting now.” He hit the send button with a flourish before ducking down to kiss your forehead. “Good luck, pet,” he whispered into your hair and then he disappeared.

Impalasutra Tags: @hexparker

Crowley/BDSM Tags from @mrswhozeewhatsis: @mrswhozeewhatsis @thinkwritexpress-official @manawhaat @thegleegeneration @sis-tafics @meganwinchester1999 @ferferelli @roxy-davenport @chrisatplay @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @jencharlan @not-so-natural-spn @skybinx-blog @feelmyroarrrr @winchesters-princess @katnharper @tia58 @sunriserose1023 @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @jotink78 @notnaturalanahi @mysaintsasinner @klaineaholic

Pond Crowely/Smut Tags: @manawhaat @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @for-the-love-of-dean @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @captain-princess-rose @mrswhozeewhatsis @ilovedean-spn2 @wi-deangirl77 @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @fandommaniacx @your-average-distracted-waffle @mysaintsasinner @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellgrey @winchestersmolder

#spnkinkbingo #spnkinkbingo2017 #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #crowley x reader #spn smut

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coramatus · 7 years

Note

Ok so... I don't mean to go mixing paints, but just imagine how funny/cute it would be if your Kitsune!Mob AU combined with the Hobo!Mob AU? Like... Mob saves young Reigen from the bullies, wanders off before Reigen thanks him, and instead of finding the man, he finds a dirty fox passed out under a bridge. Rather than call animal control, he brings it home, mistaking it for the mysterious man's dog or whatev, and thinks he'll take care of it and bring it back to the man to return the favor.

Um... actually?

That’s the idea that provided the basis of the Hobo!Mob AU. 😅

One day, just for fun, I decided to see what an ageswapped Mythical AU looked like. What I came up with ended up providing a lot of key ideas to the H!M AU, which I ultimately decided was probably the stronger story to follow. And because I can, imma share the contents of that first brainstorming document and will offer all 3k words of it to you under the cut.

Age!Swap Mythical AU - Because why not?

Reigen is 14; Mob is 28.

Mob is still a magical fox. But in growing up without a guiding hand, his life doesn’t go so great. He suffers from depression and suicidal tendencies as he is exhausted of humanity. But as a fox, complex emotions are dulled, taking a backseat to survival instincts. For that reason, he’s spent the last few years living as a fox on the streets, surviving off of garbage and rats. In some ways, things are clearer as a fox, but in others, it seems to rob him of his higher brain functions. And as a fox, his life is that much more in peril as it’s a struggle to survive. If he dies on the streets, likely no one will ever find out what happened to him. But life as a human is so painful that he doesn’t want to consider it anymore.

This is how he winds up cornered by two stray dogs, looking to make either a meal or chew toy out of him. It doesn’t help that he’s already mentally compromised from starvation and illness, meaning he doesn’t even think to shift back to human or use his magic to scare them off. He does get a good few bites on the dogs before they overwhelm him. But something comes barreling in, chasing away his attackers, giving him a chance to flee and hide in a corner.

His savior is a strawberry blonde kid, who comes up to him to see if he’s OK. Mob clearly isn’t and tries to scare the boy off, but he’s hardly deterred. Instead, he uses his jacket to catch Mob and cart him home, keeping a firm grip on him even with his struggling. Mob is scared out of his mind, until the kid starts talking to him.

The kid’s name is Reigen Arataka, Mob learns. And he is very earnest about helping what he thinks is an injured dog, explaining what he’s doing in hopes that maybe this animal will somehow understand him. Something in his words reaches Mob through his mental fog and he stops fighting the kid, going limp in the boy’s arms. This confuses the boy to no end, but decides not to question his luck.

Arataka takes Mob home of course, tending to the fox’s injuries, cleaning him up (which reveals Mob is in fact a fox), and feeding him. Mob is pliant this entire time, only protesting if anything hurts. Despite his instincts urging him to flee, Mob’s softer side isn’t willing to hurt a cub, especially one who’s only trying to help. So he lets Arataka do what he needs to do. After several trying hours, Mob is set into a box to recover in peace.

As Mob heals, the food and rest makes it much easier to think and observe his surroundings. He takes a liking to Arataka, as the kid is always gentle and enjoys talking to him, sometimes going on about his day, sometimes talking about his problems, sometimes nothing in particular. Mob becomes the boy’s confidante, sensing that Arataka is really a very lonely kid. For all his outgoing bluster, he doesn’t have any close friends. His parents aren’t around as much as they ought to be and the house is often empty of other people. So Mob is always willing to provide cuddles and allows himself to be scratched and petted. He knows all too well how terrible it is to be alone.

Eventually, Mob’s injuries heal and Arataka realizes he needs to let Mob go. The boy figures that the fox must be someone’s pet, both from Mob’s coloration and tameness. Fliers are put up around town asking for the owner of a found pet fox. Arataka hopes to high heaven that no one comes to claim Mob, but someone eventually does call in and asks to take a look.

When the doorbell rings, Arataka meets a man with spiky black hair who introduces himself as Kageyama Ritsu. He looks a bit annoyed to be there oddly enough. The moment he spots Mob, he just facepalms and goes “Shigeo, really?”

Arataka is heartbroken. He tries not to cry, but loses it when Mob comes up to comfort him. The boy doesn’t notice the looks going back and forth between the fox and his “owner”. Kageyama-san eventually clears his throat, asking for a moment alone with his br- pet. Arataka’s mom does her best to comfort her son, while the other two step into a side room.

The first rusty words out of Mob’s muzzle are that he wants to stay with Arataka. Ritsu is furious. Mob disappears into the wilds all those years ago with no contact only to show up now as some kid’s pet?? What is he thinking? Ritsu has been out of his mind terrified that his brother died! Mob needs to stay human and to try working through his problems like a normal adult. Mob looks ashamed but says he can’t leave, not when Arataka needs him more. Ritsu isn’t swayed by this, kind of offended that his brother would rather stay with some kid than this own family. But Mob asserts that he’s so, so tired of living as a human, tired of trying to find reasons to keep going. As a fox, the act of being alive is so much easier. Ritsu isn’t any happier to hear this, but even he isn’t willing to see his brother suffering as a human while he has some purpose as a fox. Mob is not blind to this, doing his best to reassure his brother that he’s working through things his own way. The younger brother just sighs. He’s not sure what to do here. Mob thinks for a moment before making a suggestion…

When Kageyama-san comes back out with Mob in his arms, Arataka is resigned to saying goodbye. But then the man uncomfortably admits that while the fox belongs to his family, he hasn’t had time to properly care for him. He’d actually been trying to rehome him before the fox got loose. He can see how much the two have bonded and it wouldn’t be right to break that. So he makes a proposal: Arataka can take care of the fox (with his parent’s permission) while Kageyama-san will send money for whatever expenses his bro- pet needs. Basically, an extended pet-sitting job. He’ll check in every so often to make sure things are OK, since the fox means a lot to him. And his family. Yeah.

Arataka almost can’t believe what he’s hearing and looks to his mom, practically begging her to agree. Though Reigen’s mom was initially upset at Mob’s presence, she can see how much happier her son is with a pet. And it helps that Mob is the cleanest, most well-behaved pet she’s ever met. So she agrees and it’s the best day of Arataka’s life.

After working things through with Reigen’s mom, Kageyama-san makes sure to share an important bit of info: The fox’s actual name is Kageyama Shigeo. But he’ll also answer to Mob. Maybe Sesame too since that’s what Arataka’s been calling him. The boy nods solemnly, promising to be the best caretaker Mob-san has ever had.

So life moves on with Mob as a more permanent fixture in Arataka’s life. The boy couldn’t be any happier. He for one, loves having a fuzzy best friend that’s so tolerant about the silly things he does. He likes making internet videos with the two of them, usually of Arataka puppeteering a docile Mob into doing goofy things (Ritsu learns just how funny his brother’s ‘NO’ face as a fox looks). Otherwise, they spend time in the park, Arataka getting Mob to play fetch (where Mob sometimes fetches the wrong item on purpose just to see how the boy reacts) or some other game. One thing that Arataka learns early on is that ‘Mob’ is not short for anything, as much as he thinks Mobius would be an amazing name (Mob disagrees). At home, Mob is very conscientious. He never makes messes, never makes more noise than he needs to, and generally tries to make his presence as unobtrusive as possible. He’s always very careful to avoid when people are naked or covering his eyes if he can’t. He might technically be an adult human male, but he’s no pervert. But he’s not opposed to sharing a bed, usually with Arataka snuggling him like a teddy bear. This is probably the happiest either have been in a long time.

Inevitably, the truth finds its way out. It starts when Arataka gets it in his head that he should totally be a ghost exorcist when he grows up. He does the usual things kids do when the idea of ghost hunting bites them: watch ghost movies, buy ghost hunting junk, research how to do it, all that good stuff. Mob just watches on in amusement. Since he was always able to see ghosts, he never got the appeal of interacting with them, especially because they tended to be malevolent in his experience. He figures it’s just a phase or something and Arataka will move on to something else.

But it doesn’t. Mob then has to accompany/protect the kid when he starts to poke around in haunted places, hoping to find something, anything that’s worthwhile. And one day he does. Arataka accidentally enrages an old and powerful evil spirit with his trespassing. Though he’s excited at what he’s found, it turns to fear as it attacks him, managing to land a solid hit on the boy. That’s enough for Mob to explode, furiously drawing on his magic to obliterate the spirit. Mob is forced to speak in order to grasp the extent of Arataka’s injuries in order to heal him.

When Arataka comes to, he spots Mob attempting to leave without him and yells at him to wait. Mob tries to pretend he doesn’t understand, but he’s a terrible liar, even as a fox. Because Arataka is positive Mob is a magic fox and can talk. With a heavy heart, Mob admits that he is.

With Arataka’s prodding, Mob reluctantly reveals that yes, he was born human, with his fox powers awakened very early in life. That he’s really in his late-twenties and no he doesn’t have a life outside of the one he lives now. No, he never managed to get into either college or a job. Yes, he lived on the streets for a few years, eating garbage and rats. Um, rats can taste good depending on what it was eating. No, Ritsu is not his owner, but his brother. Yes, his brother’s a fox too, but he prefers living as a human. Arataka then asks why Mob doesn’t live like his brother, why he’s okay with being stuck as a pet. Mob firmly tells Arataka that he doesn’t want to be human. The boy looks a bit hurt at that, Mob quickly amending that, no, Arataka being human is fine. Humanity just didn’t work for Mob. He was never very good at it. And since he had options, he chose to forgo it entirely. It’s not unheard of for those who can shapeshift to simply abandon humanity and flee into the wilderness.

But this puts Mob in an uncomfortable position. With the truth revealed, there’s no way they can go back to the way things were. It’d be better if Mob simply moved on. But Arataka refuses to let that happen. Yeah, this is weird, but now this means they’re on more even ground. Mob doesn’t have to be treated like a dumb animal. And… Mob’s been the best friend he’s ever had. Best friends don’t just leave each other. And he’s afraid for Mob. He recognizes the thin scars hidden under Mob’s fur for what they are. No, he can’t call Mob a pet in good conscience. But he still wants to call him his friend.

Though he’s hesitant, Mob admits he does too.

(More character development involving Mob and Reigen navigating their weird friendship of magic fox and boy would take place here, say maybe 6 months passing in story. Ritsu would drop the act that his brother is his pet. Reigen’s mom would wonder why her son’s now talking to his pet like a person. And why is the fox responding like a person??)

(insert dramatic event)

For the first time in years, Mob assumes human form to fight off a threat in the form of a full-grown human. As a man, Mob looks haggard, several years worth of beard on his face, hair long and messy, clothes tattered and dirty. He wins the fight. However, when he sees Arataka’s shocked face, Mob takes it the wrong way and freaks out, apologizing like mad through crying he can’t stop. He turns tail and runs, changing back into a fox and running away as fast as he can, Arataka’s frantic yelling falling on deaf ears.

Mob runs for a long time, without a destination in mind. But eventually, he starts to recognize the area as where his brother lives. At a complete loss, he goes to Ritsu’s place and begs him for help. Ritsu has no idea what’s going on, but lets his brother in. After some coaxing, Mob explains what happened. He’s ashamed of himself, he saw how Arataka looked at him as a human and he doesn’t think the boy will ever want to be near him again. Ritsu doesn’t understand and finally asks for Mob to change back to human form so he can maybe see what he’s talking about. Mob reluctantly does and for the first time, Ritsu realizes just what terrible shape his brother is in, that he’d underestimated just how much pain Mob was in this entire time. Mob is ready to bolt, but Ritsu holds onto him, unwilling to let him fall apart even further.

Mob spends a few days at Ritsu’s trying to recuperate in human form. Most of that time is spent sleeping. He cleans up, but doesn’t bother cutting his hair or shaving, feeling like it’s pointless since he’s going to be a fox again soon. A lot of the feelings of worthlessness and self-hatred come rushing back. Several nights are spent crying, with Ritsu trying to comfort his brother. Mob eventually reveals his cutting scars to his brother for the first time, admitting to how extensively he did so (on his upper arms, a few on his wrist, his thighs, his sides, his stomach).

And then one day, while Ritsu is working and Mob is trying not to dissociate in bed, Arataka shows up out of nowhere. He had to search through every single Kageyama in the phonebook before he managed to find them. The phonebook! Who does that anymore?? At least this is only the sixth place he checked. Mob is so stunned that Arataka slips past him and into the apartment before he thinks to shut the door. The boy immediately cuts to the chase, telling Mob that he’d been worried about him. Was it something he did? He’ll make up for it, he promises!

(Mob and Reigen talk as humans for the first time. Mob’s nervous, but Reigen reassures him that it’s not weird. OK, it’s kinda weird, but Reigen’s had a few days to prepare for this, so he’s gotten used to the idea. They have a heart to heart about their feelings and what Mob intends to do now. Mob has no idea, but Reigen does.)

So Arataka unveils his plans for the Spirits and Such Consultation Agency. People sometimes need exorcisms. Mob can do that. Arataka can help facilitate things. It’s win-win for everyone! Mob is more skeptical. He doubts that many people need that kind of help. And even if they did, they wouldn’t go to a fox for that. But Arataka points out that, no, Mob can be the human adult that customers need to see before they feel they’re worth the time. He is right now! Mob just points to his overgrown look, as in, who’d hire a hobo like me? Arataka just grins at him. Oh, he knows. That’s why he came prepared.

The next few hours sees the judicious use of an electric razor with a pair of scissors and ends with a lot of hair on the floor and a clean-shaven, bowl-cut Mob staring into a mirror, barely recognizing himself. He looks… human again. Arataka then throws a bunch of clothes at Mob, telling him to try them on. Mob’s wonders where Arataka got these, but the boy just admits he raided Ritsu’s closet. In the end, he comes out wearing a soft black turtleneck, black slacks, and a sharp white jacket. Arataka thinks it’s perfect. It’s just the professional image needed for the face of the new company. Mob just hopes Ritsu doesn’t get too mad at him for taking his clothes. Because he kinda likes the outfit.

At this point, Ritsu comes home. Seeing the new Mob startles him so bad that Ritsu’s fox ears and tail come out (the first time Arataka ever sees any sign of them). Though alarmed, Ritsu is happy for his brother. But maybe just give him a warning next time he decides to look like a completely different person after only a few hours. All of this is pretty overwhelming for Mob, who feels like he’s barreling straight back into the human world. He’s not sure if he’s ready for this.

(Reigen reassures him that if he wants to go back to the way things were, it’s still an option. While it’s tempting, Mob decides he’s tired of running away. Because now the future doesn’t look so bleak anymore. He can see a place for himself in it. And with that, he takes his first steps out into an uncertain future, certain that his friends and family will be there behind him, ready to catch him if he falters.)

(OK, honestly, I never had a real ending in mind for this. Never really knew what to do with it before the non-fox version of this wound up taking up more brain space and got more compelling the more research into Japanese culture I did.)

Anyways, if you somehow made it here, congratulations! You read some of my weird brain gibberish! If for some reason anyone wants to take this idea and run with it, go right ahead! I’m not using it, may as well let someone else have fun with this! I have no way of stopping you! 8D

#mythical au #hobo!mob au #ageswap au #yeah i'm too verbose for my own good #hope this isn't too insufferable a read #after this the only other AU I have to offer is a Firefly AU #which is even less developed than this one #but if anyone wants to see it let me know #upperstories

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savetopnow · 6 years

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2018-03-13 09 APPLE now

APPLE

9 to 5 Mac

Snapchat to start featuring user-created AR lenses as it looks to boost creativity

9to5Mac Daily 045 | March 12, 2018

Calendar 2 tried turning Macs into cryptocurrency mining rigs, swiftly rolled back Mac App Store update following reviews

How to customize Do Not Disturb While Driving settings on iPhone for convenience and safety

watchOS 4.3 beta 5 for Apple Watch developers now available

Apple Insider

Trump blocks Broadcom takeover of Qualcomm citing national security risk

22 percent of iPhone owners intend to upgrade to new model in 2018, survey suggests

Apple Music reaches 38M subscribers, gained 2M in last month

Apple engineers to lead talks on AR, VR, Micro LED & other topics at May's Display Week

Hands on: Apple's 'Netflix of Magazines' Texture provides a wealth of content to readers

Cult of Mac

Apple gets animated with new series from Bob’s Burgers creator

New iOS, macOS and tvOS betas bring more bug fixes

Pro Tip: Convert an iMessage to an Apple Notes checklist

Gorilla Workout proves you don’t need the gym to get fit

Alexa brings free phone calls to iPad

Daring Fireball

Doxie

The Talk Show: ‘Podcast Amnesia’

Dan Seifert: Galaxy S9 Is ‘Predictably Great, Predictably Flawed’

David Pierce: ‘Samsung Galaxy S9 Is Impressive and Infuriating’

ESPN Feature on Ichiro Suzuki

Life in LoFi

iOS 11 Update Day: iOS 11 will break some apps

Scan and straighten photos with Dropbox

Latest Snapseed Update Adds New Curves Tool

The iPhone Turns 10 Today

How to move your photos from Google Photos to Apple Photos

Mac Rumors

Trump Prohibits Broadcom's Takeover of Qualcomm Due to National Security Concerns

Mac App Store App 'Calendar 2' Mines Cryptocurrency by Default, but Feature is Being Removed

Quick Takes: PGA TOUR Gets Augmented, Interview With HQ Trivia's $25,000 Winner, and More

Apple Seeds Fifth Beta of watchOS 4.3 to Developers

YouTube TV Price Increasing to $40 for New Subscribers Starting Tomorrow

MacPrices

13″ 1.8GHz MacBook Air on sale for $134 off MSRP, $184 off with Gift Card

Save $100 on the base 21″ 2.3GHz iMac, only $999 [u]

Save hundreds on a 15″ MacBook Pro with these clearance 2016 models

Select 12″ 1.3GHz Retina MacBooks on sale for $1399, $200 off MSRP [u]

10″ 64GB WiFi iPad Pros on sale for $599, save $50

OSX Daily

How to Delete Apps from iPhone X and 3D Touch iPhone Models

Beta 5 of iOS 11.3 & macOS 10.13.4 Available for Testing

How to Make a Copy of Files or Folders on Mac with Duplicate

How to Use Stopwatch on iPhone

How to Search Emoji on Mac

Power Page

Apple patent explodes ideas as to how to prevent keyboard crud accumulation in future notebooks

AliveCor concludes studies with May clinic, finds KardiaBand device could be paired with Apple Watch to help detect high potassium levels

Rumor: Apple may release lower-priced HomePod in second half of 2018

Patent hints at Apple’s effort to create a Lightning connector with waterproof seal

California joins 17 states in lobbying for “right to repair” legislation

Reddit Apple

Calendar 2 tried turning Macs into cryptocurrency mining rigs, swiftly rolled back Mac App Store update following reviews

Why is the Steam app's resolution still terrible for retina display Macs in 2018?

Apple's ARKit lets you see pro golfer's shots in a new way

Apple Watch wristband sensor claims to detect potassium in your blood — without needles

Apple's Eddy Cue talks content, Texture, free speech, and the future in SXSW appearance

Reddit Mac

What does this mean? It pops up when I try to increase the keyboard brightness

Mac OS Security

Reuse MacBook Air SSD?

Macbook Air mid-2013 lasts about 6 hours

Dual Monitor Display for MacBook Pro 2010/2011

Reddit iPhone

What did my gf do to make the writing pop up look like that?

Animoji

At least they know how canned it sounds

Worth it to get SIM-free iPhones?

A much needed Upgrade. iPhone SE to an iPhone 8 Plus.

Six Colors

(Podcast) Upgrade #184: The Claim Chowder Secret Society

Apple acquiring magazine subscription service Texture ↦

The Talk Show #216: "Podcast Amnesia" ↦

Jobs and Woz's first product: Blue Boxes ↦

Coal in Kosovo slows clocks in Paris ↦

Unlock Boot

Guide to Uninstall OneDrive from Windows 10 and 8.1

Top 14 iPhone Apps Gone Free Today – March 12 2018

How to Reset and Get a New Apple Recovery Key

10 Best Torrent Sites to Use in 2018

5 Best Kodi TV Boxes You Can Purchase In 2018

iPhone Hacks

Apple Seeds watchOS 4.3 Beta 5 to Developers

Apple’s Made-for-iPhone Licensing Program Now Supports USB-C Ports and Lightning-to-3.5mm Audio Out Cables

Apple Seeds tvOS 11.3 Beta 5 to Developers

Apple Seeds macOS High Sierra 10.13.4 Beta 5 to Developers

Apple Seeds iOS 11.3 Beta 5 to Developers With New Animoji; Battery Health Feature

iPhone Life

Smart Speaker Review: Affordable, Portable Alexa-Enabled Wireless Bluetooth Speaker

Face ID Has Made Touchscreen Gloves Practical Again

How to Restart & Force Restart Your Apple Watch

Review: PopSockets Are a Simple & Stylish Way to Secure Your Phone

The Best Journaling App on iPhone Is One You’ve Probably Heard Of

iPhone Photography Blog

9 iPhone Camera Effects: How To Use Them For More Creative Photos

SANDMARC Lenses For iPhone X: Wide, Fisheye, Macro & 3x Telephoto

iPhone Art Academy: Create Stunning Works Of Art With Just Your iPhone

Olloclip Lenses For iPhone 8 & 8 Plus: Pick The Best Lenses For You

Camera+ App Tutorial: How To Create Stunning iPhone Photos

#apple

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topicprinter · 4 years

Link

Hey guys, I've built a Hackernews-inspired newsletter containing the top 10 articles relevant to founders that were on the HN front-page last week.Why HackerNews? Because it's one of the last places on the internet with meaningful discussion & quality topics. See for yourself below if you don't believe me. Btw, if you want to get this via email every week, go here.1. Patio11's Law: The software economy is bigger than you think (1022 votes)There’s a thrill in finding quiet companies, operating in the background, cashing checks. Software has exploded the number of these businesses. Ten people working remotely can make millions of dollars a year.Austen Allred shared how, when matching Lambda graduates to jobs, he’ll discover software companies he’s never heard of in Oklahoma pocketing $10m/year in profit. Doing things like “making actuarial software for funeral homes.”3It’s not surprising. Of the 3,000+ software companies acquired over the last three years, only 7% got TechCrunch, Recode, HN, or other mainstream tech coverage.4Also, markets like SAP, worth $163B. There is a term for these companies, they're called Hidden Champioons, and you can see a few of them on Wikipedia.Some other useful quotes:I’ve had four jobs in my life and have always been stunned by what is still done by hand. Every company had a task which could be heavily automated but was instead consuming 4-30 people. So if you think the software market is large, consider all the stuff software never reached.I applied for a job at a company in my city, and they told me their product was entirely API connectors for the local banks. In fact all of the companies I've worked for here have been making software for local industries! From solar installers, energy efficient lighting manufacturers, local commerce and POS systems, mechanics software, creative market places, local lead generation.Oh yes, there are tons of giants creating software for health applications you never heard of, defense purposes you cannot hear about, logistic you would never consider (managing competitions, port services, private jet traffic, truck fleets...) and so on. I should know, I make half of my income going from company to company to train their team. They are everywhere. They make billions.Don’t require a user to be interested twice: lessons on reducing signup friction (390 votes)Long story short: A guy made a SaaS prototype and he got a few users by posting on forums. Thing is, his "flow" was to get them to "sign up" to the waitlist and then he manually sent them an invite hours or days later.His success increased when he changed the flow so people get an automatic email to register immediately after they sign up.Kind of obvious, but there's an important principle here:Don't require a user to be motivated twice. Instead, make use and ride of the motivation wide when they sign up. This is pretty obvious if you read BJ Fogg material.Some useful notes from HN comments on users:Treat signups as a leading indicator of success, not the ultimate goal.Asking for an email up front is already too much. Let the user use your service, they'll create some "content" or "configuration" in it. Once they do that, they'll want to preserve / persist it, and then you can ask for an email address. They're much more likely to give you a real email address and validate it, because they're already invested.I'm convinced one of the reasons Zoom is so successful (besides being a great product) is that there is no sign up required at all. Someone invites you to a conference and you just click the link, enter your name and go.Ask HN: What is the best way to target restaurants and small businesses? (28 votes)I really like these threads where you have very bright minds giving advice for a common pain point. Here are some amazing answers:Almost every brick and mortar company’s website includes a phone number. Call 5 of them and order a meal, when you pick it up ask to talk to the manager for a minute. Elevator pitch: you’ve got 5-10 seconds to get them to ask for more time. “When I was ordering food I noticed that I couldn’t prepay online, I almost thought of going somewhere else, how come you don’t have a way to pay before coming in?” “Don’t know how to do that”. “I built a plugin that takes 5-10 mins to set up and people can pay while they order so I don’t have to come inside, can we do a Skype call when you’re not busy to walk through this?”. Once you’ve gotten a handful of trials like this you can start calling but your options with restaurants(especially mom and pop) are to walk in the door or get to them directly on the phone.or this:You can also try to target other companies thay already have large restaurant customer bases, but then you become a SKU in their offerings. It may be more about lead genertion than anything else.OnlyFans, influencers, and the politics of selling nudes during a pandemic (133 votes)While sites like AirBnb have huge loses, OnlyFans grew 75% during last month. It was launched as a result of platforms like Instagram shutting out adult entertainment workers.I wonder if there is any way to integrate into this platform as a developer and "ride" on its growth :DThe coming disruption of colleges and universities (82 votes)Scott Galloway is a man who predicted a lot of things. He predicted Amazon’s $13.7 billion purchase of Whole Foods a month before it was announced. Last year, he called WeWork on its “seriously loco” $47 billion valuation a month before the company’s IPO imploded.Now, he predicts something happening with universities. . The post-pandemic future, he says, will entail partnerships between the largest tech companies in the world and elite universities. [MIT@Google](mailto:MIT@Google). iStanford. HarvardxFacebook. According to Galloway, these partnerships will allow universities to expand enrollment dramatically by offering hybrid online-offline degrees.How will this disrupt education? Well thousands of brick-and-mortar universties will go out of business.At the same time, more people than ever will have access to a solid education, albeit one that is delivered mostly over the internet.If this is true, it may open a lot of opportunities for makers in the edu space.Ask HN: Mind bending books to read and never be the same as before?Here are some recommendation for "brain expanding" books:"Rework", "Getting Real", the other books by the old 37signals crew, and of course "The Lean Startup" really changed the way I thought about software development and business. I credit them for much of my startup/programming success.Taleb's Incerto series changed how I thought about investing, risk, and life in general. "Fooled by Randomness" and "Antifragile" are especially good."Basic Economics: A Citizen's Guide to the Economy" by Thomas Sowell. I read this as a teenager with only limited exposure to economics and it cleared up many misconceptions I held."Alchemy: The Dark Art and Curious Science of Creating Magic in Brands, Business, and Life" by Rory Sutherland. Explains why we choose brands over cheaper alternatives, why we're willing to pay a lot more to lock in a deal, why we hate registering before buying the thing (but are more than happy to do so right after), why Sony removed the record button from the first Walkman, and much more.Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. This book makes every bit of life advice you receive afterwards feel shallow. It feels like a reference to western thought.Scraping Recipe Websites (461 votes)Do you do scraping as part of your job? Then you may want to read this how this site scrapes 99% of recipe website using a logical template.An interesting thing they mention is the concept of LCA (lowest common ancestor) and how they use it to identify part of the HTML most likely to contain all of the ingredients/instructionsMy blog is now generated by Google Docs (398 votes)Over and over and over again, I see businesses succeeding just because they tap into people existing habits.Most people are familiar with typing in Google Docs. If you can make a tool where they just press a button and 'voila', it turns it itno a blog post, they're way more likely to use you vs. someone who creates a separate interface (see BJ Fogg and his behavioral design theory).US video game sales have record quarter as consumers stay at home (376 votes)Video game sales are at historic hights. Traffic on gaming-related services like Discord, Twitch, Mixer, and others have hit historic highsThe current crisis probably accelerated video games adoption by 10 years.Ask HN: How to stop anxiety from too many choices? (286 votes)The best advice I've seen here is:Stop shopping start doing. All these decisions I call shopping, where you do a lot of research but never commit. At some point you have to start working on something.Have an ideas journal. Write new ideas down there, and don't start with any of them in less than two weeks. This lets you get over the initial enthusiasm - and perhaps new better ideas will push less useful ones out of the way in that time. If something stays at the top of your list for weeks, then perhaps it is useful.My advice is to lower the value of ideas. A lot of time people think, "If only I had a good idea I would be successful". You will see other people saying things like, "Buy my good idea!". But really, good ideas are a dime a dozen. Good ideas, bad ideas... it actually doesn't make much difference. What makes the difference is execution and timing.To be successful, really what you need is execution and to have the patience to wait until what you are doing is relevant. Of course there is the fear that it will never be relevant. However, if you accept the thesis that the good idea is not valuable in itself, then you realise that it is not really valuable to pivot without a really good reason. A good idea that is never relevant is just as worthless as a bad idea that is never relevant. However, even a bad idea that is executed very well and ready when the opportunity arises can be successful.see the first step, the very next step, and that's it. You don't need to know what step 2,748 is about let alone how to solve it to take the next door. (formally: no premature optimization).Make a decision, and stick to it. In other words, be quick to decide but slow to change. The trick in life is not to "do what you love" (or make the decisions you think are right: spoiler, you'll be wrong 50% of the time). The trick is to "love what you do"I have similar problems sometimes- and remind myself the power of "good enough". Striving for "the best" will often leave you unsatisfied. So instead of thinking "which is better?" think "is this one good enough?"If you want to get this via email every week, see http://founderweeklys.com/

#/r/entrepreneur #reddit

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incomplete-nano-stash · 5 years

Text

2019 NaNo: Nightfall in Litigia, Chapter 1

“Are you certain of that information?” Queen Guerrania’s voice showed barely a quiver as she asked the question, but the concerned tone set everyone on edge, for if the once-fearless Queen of Technasia was afraid, then they all should be.

“We had a confirmation just this morning,” the respondent, a colonel of the royal guards, intoned. “Six companies of troops approaching from the east, flying Litigian colors.”

“Six!” Princess Jayne Monger, the Princess of Strength, exclaimed, startling the nearby Princess of Life, Hanna Umbriel. “We don’t have nearly enough conscripted to confront that kind of force.”

Queen Guerrania placed her chin in her hand, lost in thought. “The wise general worries not about her numbers or lack of same, but does more to compensate and fights smarter. A blunt instrument is no match for a fine sword.”

Princesses Jayne and Hanna exchanged confused looks. “Your Majesty?”

Queen Guerrania looked up at the remnants of her vaunted Princess Corps. “Reviewing strategy. An ancestor of mine thought about this very problem.” She turned to the colonel. “Take twelve patrols, set up equidistant checkpoints to maintain observation of the enemy. If you can locate a commander or figure out some sort of officers, attempt to make contact. Warn them … cordially.”

The colonel bowed deeply. “It will be done, Your Majesty.” He crisply turned on his heel and strode aggressively toward the door, only to nearly be bowled over when the doors burst inward.

“Ramia!” Princess Hanna stood quickly and rushed over to her sister’s side, hugging her while she guided the Princess of Law to her rightful seat at the table. “My God, what’s happened to you?” Thaylen Halder, the fugitive lesser prince of Technasia’s bitter rival LItigia, followed close behind, looking equally as ragged to those assembled in the room as Princess Ramia Tensay did. They both had not bothered with changing their garb, nor trying to clean up from their long journey. An attendant quickly rushed to Princess Ramia’s side and offered her a goblet, which she gratefully took and swigged nearly the entire contents.

Queen Guerrania’s face tried to maintain decorum, but she did raise a nonplussed eyebrow. “Princess Ramia, welcome back.”

Princess Ramia slammed down the goblet on the table, cracking the vessel slightly. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I have news from the Darklands.”

“As we have news from home,” the Queen responded. “But please, continue.”

Princess Ramia motioned for Thaylen to approach the table. He slung down a knapsack, pulling out a jar of dark fluid. Princess Ramia turned toward her sister. “Hanna, does this look familiar?”

Princess Hanna sucked in a quick breath. “That’s our formula. The Decade Plague cure that Giana developed with me.”

Thaylen smiled slightly. “It’s actually an improved version, Your Highness, one which will completely cure the plague.”

Princess Jayne’s face took an expression of relief; perhaps her accidental exposure to the Plague would not be a death sentence, after all. “Thank you Jesus.”

“Point is, though, in addition to this we found out the angle for the Darklands Assassins.” Princess Ramia looked around the table, realizing there was an absence. “Hey, where’s Anyia?”

“I’m afraid that your news might combine with ours here,” Queen Guerrania darkly pronounced at the mention of Anyia Po, the Princess of Literacy. “Princess Anyia was involved in an overthrow attempt. She was arrested, and sadly has died in custody.” Princess Hanna’s features darkened. She hoped Princess Ramia could not pick up on her mood as the Queen continued. “We now have a large force of Litigian regulars approaching our borders. They want a war.”

Princess Ramia cleared her throat. “I don’t think they do. It might be a retaliatory force.”

“Retaliatory?” Queen Guerrania was genuinely surprised. “For what?”

Thaylen smirked. “The bloodlust of Litigia knows no bounds. While there were assassins being sent here targeting you, Your Majesty, there were others sent to target the Litigian Council of Lords. Specifically the Lords, though, not my father.”

Princess Jayne cleared her throat. “Wouldn’t happen to involve Vriant Poe, would it?”

Princess Ramia now felt the urge of surprise. “What do you mean?”

Queen Guerrania pushed the large book … Princess Anyia’s history … toward Princess Ramia. “He’s Anyia’s cousin. They apparently had a plot afoot to unify the two nations.”

Princess Ramia started breathing heavily. “God … this is bad, then. I just agreed to let Tuck go to Litigia with Lord Moethran. Things are going to get very dangerous very fast for her.”

“I need to see your authorization.”

The disinterested sentry standing watch outside the wrought metal gate looked more bored than insistent as he presented the order to the two poncho-clad women standing before him. The rain was certainly not helping his mood any. With a light giggle, one of the women brought out a sheaf of paperwork, hand-written with official seals. The guard flipped through it with as much contempt as he could.

“Hmf … domestic servants, huh? What do you … oh, wait, never mind, you can’t answer that anyway.” He shoved the paperwork back into the lead woman’s arms. “Go ahead and get started. Lord Vengor expects to take residence within the week.”

A less light giggle came from the woman as she stuffed the paperwork back into her poncho, leading her companion into the compound as the gates opened up. Just as quickly, though, the gates closed with a loud clang.

Although the place was bustling with activity, everything was under the watchful eyes of guards, stationed at every corner and atop every wall. The rain felt even more oppressive to the disguised Technasian woman as she followed Firnian Moethran, former Lord of the holding, through the muddy central square toward the residence. She bit her tongue at the urge to talk, knowing that it would give them both away if she did.

Firnian, for her part, fought the urge to scream. Majer Vengor? That pedophile? She seethed, maintaining her silence as both she and her companion crossed the threshold of the door. Inside, a warm, welcoming fire was roaring in the centrally-located fireplace, numerous maids rushing back and forth cleaning multiple surfaces and items within the home.

An older woman approached the two newcomers with a very strong, swift stride. She motioned with her hands, a shorthand all the domestic workers of Litigia used to communicate without triggering the gigglers, collars that all Litigian women wore which restricted their speech to meaningless giggling. Firnian waved back, reaching back into her poncho and producing a small sigil.

The Technasian looked on, bewildered, until the elder’s face shone recognition and relief. She quickly motioned to follow her. Firnian quickly fell in line behind the older woman, with the princess in tow. After entering and traversing a long, dark hallway, the three women reached a large bedchamber, ornately decorated with gilded appliques and fixtures.

The older woman reached her hand up to her giggler, finding a knob and turning it. “Milord Firnian, thank God you’ve made it home!” The older woman tightly embraced Firnian, who let her hood drop. “It must be torture for you to wear the giggler.”

Firnian chuckled. “Not so much when it’s fake.”

The older woman’s eyes widened. “How is this possible? You had no access to your special labs.”

Firnian motioned to her companion, who flipped down her own poncho hood. “Thanks to our new friend here. Tuck, this is Lucinda Breech, she has been the House of Moethran’s head of household since even before my father’s time. Lucinda, may I present to you Imogen Inperia, Technasia’s Princess of Technology.”

Tuck blushed at the introduction. “Please, ma’am, call me Tuck.”

Lucinda curtsied. “My word, visiting royalty! This is a privilege.”

Firnian waved off the curtsy and urged Lucinda to stand back up. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve gotten really chummy in the last month or so. I need to know why in the fuck my holdings are being given to that pervert Vengor.”

Lucinda’s eyes darkened. “I’m afraid that King Guent liquidated your holdings, milord. He announced the redistribution of all properties belonging to traitors to the homeland, starting with all of yours going to the Church. In particular, Lord Vengor laid claim to your home, while selling the rest of your land holdings to other wealthy families, with the profits going to the Church.”

Firnian looked fit to explode. She found a convenient silver jewelry box and flung it across the room, where it shattered a mirror. “Goddamn it! Vengor has no rights to this land! I will not allow that cocksucker to invade my home and diddle choirboys on my bed!” She delivered a swift kick to the vanity that now no longer had a mirror, screaming in impotent rage.

Tuck, however, approached Lucinda. “Has there been any word about the other Lords? How many are left?”

Lucinda scoffed. “There’s still four loyal to the King, if that’s what you’re asking. After he banished milord, after Lord Jair’s murder, and after Lord Qine’s untimely demise, he installed Brestian Laith, Killin Frove, and milord’s current target Majer Vengor as the new Council of Lords.”

Tuck and Firnian exchanged looks. “Wait, you only said Lord Jair was murdered?” Tuck finally asked.

“Indeed. Lord Qine died of natural causes, according to the King, though there are rumors that those ‘natural’ causes might’ve been sped along by Guent getting impatient and too pissed off.” Lucinda shrugged. “We’ll never know the true story though, since Guent also ordered Qine’s body to be cremated immediately. Something about a plague?”

Firnian seethed as she removed her poncho. “Plague my ass. I’ve seen plague with my own two eyes. Guent did something there.” She reached for a nearby scroll and rolled it out, a blank scroll. With a pen from the wrecked vanity, she started scrawling on the page. Names, mainly, and while she wrote them out she kept a running commentary for Tuck’s benefit. “Okay, so we have Laith, Frove, and … barf … Vengor as the new Lords, supplanting Jair, Qine, and me.”

Tuck stroked her chin as Firnian’s list became two columns, one with the living Lords on the left and one with the dead and banished Lords on the right. In the center, she wrote down two names, Halder and Poe.

“So let’s see, the only two left from the old guard are King Asshole and Vriant Poe. Hmm.” She looked up at Lucinda. “Do you see any pattern here? Any logic to what Guent is trying to do?”

Lucinda looked over the lists carefully. Tuck quietly came up to Firnian’s side. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, how does one become a Litigian Lord?”

“Oh, it’s not so mysterious,” Lucinda piped up as she pored over the lists. “The Lords are picked by the King based on which elements of the economy he feels are most important. See, look here. The old King, Turgen, he was a big believer in infrastructure and foreign tourism being keys to advancing the economy, and so he put certain Lords in charge based on their usefulness and wealth. Lord Jair, for instance, was a hospitality baron. Lord Qine, he specialized in shipbuilding.”

Firnian smiled gently. Tuck noticed it. “What is your House’s industry?” the princess finally asked.

Firnian chuckled. “Cars. Isn’t that a kick in the ass? The King thought we’d need a transportation breakthrough, and it would come by way of cars. Dead technology that nearly killed us all.”

Tuck pulled her collar. “Do I want to know what Lord Poe’s industry is?”

“Weapons,” Lucinda and Firnian recited in unison. Tuck nodded knowingly, returning to the scroll.

“This makes no sense, though,” Firnian finally let out. “Yeah, Guent is big on defense and warmongering, so he’s going to have Poe the weaponeer at hand, but what about the others? Laith runs factory farms. Frove is another car guy, so that maybe makes sense, they want him in place of me. Vengor, though? He’s a money man for the fucking Church.”

Tuck cleared her throat. “Is there a chance that Guent may be preparing to wage what he thinks is a holy war?”

Both Lucinda and Firnian gave blank looks at Tuck, before Firnian slapped her hand on her own forehead. “Goddamn it, you’re right. Guent’s the kind of sanctimonious prick who would think he’s God’s gift to warfare, of course he thinks any fight he picks is going to be a holy war.”

“Or maybe …” Lucinda stroked her own chin. “Maybe he’s going to sell it as a holy war, and brought in Laith and Vengor to justify it?”

“Of course all of this is moot if the assassins strike,” Tuck reminded Firnian. “We’re supposed to be looking for the assassins and whoever made the contract.”

Lucinda pursed her lips quietly. Sensing the awkwardness in the room, Firnian turned to her head of household. “Is there something you’ve left out, Luce?”

Lucinda swallowed hard. “Milord, King Guent has already ordered his forces to march on Technasia as a retaliation for the attack on Lord Jair.”

Firnian placed a hand on her temple. “Just great.” She sighed and turned to Tuck, pain shining in her eyes. “We need to get to the bottom of this now, for the sake of both of our kingdoms.”

The monarch slammed his feet into the cold stone of the castle floor with each aggressive step he took, each footfall jarring his entire body, shooting pain through his knees. No matter, he had a cushy throne awaiting him in his audience chambers, so he continued to stomp down the passageway. Far too hesitantly, a page boy approached him.

“Your Majesty, I have news.” The page boy knelt quickly, bracing himself for a blow. The stomping feet stopped short of putting a knee in the child’s face.

“Well?” The king’s voice was impatient.

“Your Majesty … I …” Now the page boy was rattled and upset. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his senses back. “Sire, your brother and Lord Moethran have disappeared from Technasia.”

A low growl developed in the pit of King Guent Halder’s stomach. “Disappeared? Any ideas how?”

The servant furiously shook his head negatively. “Our forces approaching the border did not see them at all. We only know about this from monitoring Technasian missives.”

The king went ahead and kicked the page boy anyway. It had been his first impulse, but resisting until he heard the news was increasingly difficult. “Have the council of lords summoned. We will decide what to do about the traitors together.”

The page boy rubbed his head, stinging from the king’s blow. “It will be done, Your Majesty.” He scrambled to his feet and ran down the passageway, away from the king. Watching the peasant made Guent smirk in a self-satisfied way. Good, they should fear me, they should properly fear and respect my power.

A few hard steps later, the king was turning into his royal audience chamber, the plush cushioned throne awaiting him. To his utter delight, everyone present in the room shot to their feet, not wishing to arouse his ire. At the head of the room, by the throne, another page puffed out his chest. “All rise in the presence of His Royal Majesty, Lord Protector of the Realm of Litigia, King Guent!”

All of the people in the room stood in respect to their monarch. He was vaguely aware of the tightness in his pants as he crossed the room, turning to face the assemblage. “Bow before your ruler!”

The entire room hit their knees nearly in unison, a sight which never got old for the young king. He flamboyantly flipped his coat above his buttocks and squatted down to take his seat, the rest of the room still genuflecting obediently. He cleared his throat to the page, who looked up, then stood up.

“Those with petitions before the Royal Throne of Litigia, come forth and plead your case before your King.”

Guent snapped his fingers. “Make it quick, too, I haven’t got all day.”

A peasant man nervously approached the throne, dropping down to one knee. He bowed his head humbly. “My liege, Your Majesty, I come before you with a most humble and desperate request. My family is ill, every one but myself afflicted with a rare disease.”

Guent slumped in the throne, his face resting on one raised hand, elbow on the arm of the chair. “So? What does that have to do with me?”

“Your Majesty, I ask for leniency on the cost of medical care for my family. We are destitute, our income is meagre and our abode not nearly as fine as this beautiful palace.” The man shuddered. “Please grant us this boon, Your Majesty.”

Guent leaned forward. “What is your profession?”

The man looked up with slight confusion. “I am a laborer on the holdings of Lord Moethran, Your Majesty.”

The mention of the insolent woman, the one who dared to assert her equality with the others on the council, immediately snapped Guent out of his boredom. He snarled as he stood up. “Then you serve a traitor to the throne, and are therefore a traitor to your nation. Your boon is denied.” Guent clapped his hands. “Guards! Remove this man and place him in irons.”

“No! Please, mercy my lord!” Tears streaked down the peasant man’s cheeks, even as he was roughly lifted to his feet by the guards. “My family …”

“Your sons are hereby ordered conscripted into the Litigian Imperial Army.”

The peasant man shook his head desperately. “I have no sons, Your Majesty …”

A dark, lustful tone flashed across Guent’s face. “Your daughters then. They are hereby ordered conscripted to the palace. We will train them in the place of a woman in this realm.” The king’s face creased with a sinister smile, despite the sobs and wails of the peasant being dragged out of the room. Guent sat back in the throne, an expression of satisfaction on his face.

“Your Majesty, was that necessary?” The page’s voice quivered. “He was no threat to you.”

Guent glared at the page. “Do you want something similar?” The page frantically shook his head. “Then shut the hell up. I am your King. My judgment is law. Don’t ever forget that.”

The page bowed deeply. “I apologize, Your Majesty. Next petitioner!”

Another peasant man approached the throne. Guent wrung his hands with anticipation. To be frank, he didn’t know why his father thought the job was so hard, it was a dream for Guent because he could do whatever he wanted, and no one corrected him.

He enjoyed being his own little god.

#nanowrimo #incomplete nano 2019 #nightfall on Litigia #chapter one

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