#cipher m!a: button eyes

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Bark For Me

Sometimes @turbulentscrawl has to hear me be silly lol (a lot) with one brain cell active when in matches with Fool's Gold

Rated: Mature | Warnings: pet play (in horny jail again)

It was a joke! You told him that, repeatedly, what you said was a joke! You should have known he would take to the next step and further.

“Norton, I was kidding!” Nervous as the hunter removes his belt.

“And so am I. Let's play a little while longer.” Using to his advantage your inability to fight back from being downed by his attack. Even if he is your partner, both of him, he will still do his job. Norton will make sure it is quick.

You make a gagging sound as he wraps the belt around your neck and pulls before locking it in place by the buckle, a sadistic grin on his face as you grab the belt and are dragged closer to him while on your knees.

“Bark.” He says with a sudden serious face.

“What!?” Shocked yet you should not given he loves degrading you before fucking you. Hunter Norton likes to see you in tears and sucks at aftercare.

“Bark or I can chair you.”

You glare at him, “...” Going on all fours and glaring at him, “Woof.”

He laughs, long and hard, even hitting his knee as if that was the greatest joke of all time! “God, you are something else, sparky.” Oh, fuck him for taking this too far. “Now bark with some enthusiasm!”

You do it, and you do it louder too, you swear to never joke around him again! The alarm goes off singling the ciphers are done but you know Norton won't let you live just yet.

“Hmm, I can see the appeal.” Walking with you crawling on your hands and knees towards the dungeon, “Think about it, you can either behave and get rewarded. Or you can be a bitch and get muzzled.”

You say nothing nor do you move after that statement.

“Maybe this will get you to start behaving with me, sparky.”

You roll your eyes.

“Give me your paw.” Gesturing as he presents his broken hand, “Come on, come on, pup.” Talking to you as if you are a dog.

It was risky your reaction but you attacked him, pushing him forward and growling at him before hopping into the dungeon.

“Oh, come on! I was teasing!”

“No, fuck you! Fuck you my knees and palm hurt!”

“That sounds like the usual— I was kidding! Don't ignore me. Come on, sparky.” You refuse to acknowledge him as you are about to leave the room you both went to in order to meet after the match. Norton is sorry but you are not pleased nor forgiving at the moment.

“Maybe if you get on your knees and crawl around in the fucking snow, I might look at you.” Huffing, you are at the door but not opening it, he tugs on your shirt with his good hand; you move with him until he has you sitting down on the old couch. It took a lot of work to make the attic both comfortable and breathable. Both Nortons had to for once put something above themselves and worked together to make this space. Greed can be useful! Especially when that greed is towards you.

It is not a five-star luxury hotel level but you loved it, adding your touch to their work.

A pocket of peace.

“(Name).” Soft-toned, “I am very sorry.” Your foot bounces your leg. “I didn't mean it. You looked really good and you know I can't help myself around you.”

“Pft, sounds like a you problem, goldie.”

“Please forgive me.” Resting his head on your lap. His chest pressed against your legs, “So sorry.” Look up at you with a sweet smile. The height difference is humorous yet endearing given this Fool's Gold who often is an ass.

“Hmm,” Norton picks his head up to kiss where the belt left its mark, the mark is not too bad but you had removed it after coming out of the dungeon and you swore you going to burn his damn belt! “Fine. God, I hate when you use begging against me.” Because you do and are very weak to how his voice lowers, his eyes half shut, and the way he just submits. 

Awful man, terrible man, and you love him so much. Norton knows it, both of them do! 

Pushing buttons because you are their ‘spark’ and they love that fire of yours roar with life. May you never change.

The hunter laughs as you pet his hair while grumbling about him being nice or something.

[bastsoldtrollblog]

Button eyes for Cipher.

Button Eyes: whoever sends this has ownership of a voodoo doll especially made for my muse, and can inflict harm on them at will. Lasts as long as they want.

> Something feels...Off, but you can't place it...

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Thirteen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains extreme mental duress and graphic depictions of gore. Stay safe!]

M7-97.  

  That couldn't be right.

  M7-97 .

  Quinlan must have gotten something incorrect. A line of code must be askew. Maybe he had used the wrong cipher.

  M7-97 .

  " Danse, they know you're a synth! Please , you have to run! " Haylen had begged him, tears streaming down her face. If this was a joke, it was a disturbing one, and certainly in poor taste.

  M7-97 .

  Danse's stomach wouldn't stop tying itself in knots. He was distracted, dangerously so. 

  M7-97 .

  Was Vega leading him into a trap? Was he being set up? 

  Was he really a synth? His memories swirled uncertainly, sterile and damning. Featureless gray buildings, scavenging through the ruins of the Capital Wasteland, alone, alone . 

  The meager breakfast he had eaten in the mess hall threatened to make a reappearance. Was he really a synth? Danse felt like he couldn't breathe, lightheaded from warring with his panic. He leaned against the double doors as Vega set up the location pulser, the knight fumbling for a moment with the fiddly gear.

  "Wait, Vega." The paladin said abruptly when she was about to push the activation button. She turned to look at him and Danse's heart clenched in his chest. 

  He went to remove his helmet, the gorget seal hissing loudly in the stillness of the Sentinel site. Here amongst the towering stacks of carefully packaged warheads, the paladin made a split-second choice. If she had been sent along with him to end him, he wouldn't resist. But he needed to say his piece.

  Rushed on by fear, nausea and the devastating knowledge that he would never see her again, Danse began to speak. "I just wanted you to know how immensely proud I am of you, Knight Vega," he choked out, half-expecting her to blow his head off now that he had offered her the opportunity. "You've done so much for the Brotherhood, for me , I...I'm at a loss for words." 

  Instead of killing him where he stood, Elizabeth removed her own helmet, her brilliant smile making Danse's heart trip violently. "Thank you, Danse." She replied softly, a gauntlet over her chest. Not in salute, but in sincerity. 

  Danse's finger twitched on the trigger of his rifle, but he forced himself to unclench his hand from the stock. No, not like this . She had offered him her vulnerability in turn, though hers seemed to be unwitting. He wouldn't sully their last encounter by being the one to fire first.

  "When you arrived at the police station, I didn't know whether we could trust you. But as I said before you departed for the Institute, you've proved yourself time and again in my eyes. I am honored to have fought alongside you, and I'm honored to call you my friend," Danse's voice trembled, "Elizabeth."

  "Gosh." Vega blinked at him, seeming concerned. "You really need that R and R, Danse. Look, this isn't the end of the world! We'll only be apart for a little while."

  "Apart?" Danse asked, confused. He could have sworn that she was here to either kill him or simply keep him occupied until the rest of the Brotherhood arrived to put an end to him. 

  "Yeah, you're supposed to stay here to count and secure the bombs. Elder Maxson wanted me to report back double-time once I activated the pulser, according to that scribe at Echo." Backhand shrugged. "I dunno', seems kinda' dumb for me to hoof it if they're sending vertibirds, but I guess they trust you to make sure nothing stupid happens in the meantime."

  She was leaving him alone? Danse's brain reeled with a million plans half-formed, a million courses of action that he could take. They're separating us , he realized. If she was being removed from the situation ahead of him, that allowed him tactical breathing room to devise a strategy. He wouldn't have to fight her. Wouldn't have to get her tangled in his mess. Wouldn't have to kill her . "Of course," he murmured. "Sorry, I...it's been a long day."

  Backhand waved him off, rummaging through her satchel. That familiar bandanna emerged from the cavern of her bag and Danse forced himself to remain still as she got within melee distance. Her fingers surprisingly nimble in their gauntlets, she wound the 'lucky' bandanna around his neck and tucked the loose ends beneath his left ear. The fabric was worn and faded, a nondescript color that may have once been olive drab. It was technically much too big to be a simple bandanna, but he had no other name for the large square of cloth. A scarf, perhaps?

  "There." She hummed, appearing pleased with her handiwork. "Now you'll have a little luck with you until we meet again."

  Danse reached out almost against his will, the servos in his gauntlet whirring softly when he drew a finger from the cryo burn on her forehead down to the one on her chin. "Take care of yourself in my absence, Knight Vega." His throat ached. 

  "I will. Don't worry about me!" Backhand promised him with an easy grin. "I just hope you won't get bored to death out here all alone." She brought her hand down on the pulser, slipped her helmet back on and then threw him a salute. "Ad Victoriam, Paladin Danse."

  And Paladin Logan Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, gave her the most razor-sharp salute of his career. "Ad Victoriam, Knight Vega."

  …

  He was going to be sick. Elizabeth had departed not five minutes ago and Danse dry heaved from nerves as he shoved his helmet back on. 

  He didn't have time to be sick. 

  M7-97 .

  There was no way she had known. She would be safe. She could claim ignorance.

  M7-97 .

  Danse knew he didn't have long before the vertibirds arrived. Half of him was so sure this was all a mistake, a misunderstanding that he could easily clear up with a simple explanation. The other half of him was Haylen's anguished voice pleading Danse you have to run, they'll kill you!

  And every second he wasted arguing with himself was a second that possible death drew closer. The paladin could feel his legs shaking in his armor frame, his whole body starting to tremble as the urge to flee threatened to swallow him whole. But no, he was a Brotherhood soldier. 

  Danse paced the floor in front of the double doors, making a point to leave the safety on his laser rifle. Whatever his fate, he would meet it peacefully. He would not open fire on his brothers and sisters, even if they were indeed arriving to slaughter him. If he truly was a synth, he reasoned desperately, then he needed to be destroyed. There could be no allowances or exceptions.

  Had there ever been a real Danse? 

  He jerked to a halt at that, his heart dropping. Was he a replacement , or had there never been a 'real' Danse to begin with? The notion that the real Danse might have been disposed of ages ago to allow him to infiltrate the Brotherhood was...oh God, it was awful , Danse wished he had never thought of it.

  M7-97 .

  He slammed a fist down on the button for the lift. Vega had left via the same path, so he knew that it must eventually lead outside. That…

  He shouldn't try to escape if he was a synth. He needed to be destroyed . If he wasn't one and he fled, it would just make him look even more guilty. 

  But...but he didn't want to die. After everything that he had survived, everything that he had overcome, all the suffering he had endured--

  Oh God, he didn't want to die. Was this some malevolent failsafe programming, or was this just his human self-preservation instincts kicking in? Danse wanted to tear his hair out. He was second guessing every damn thing his body was doing, hyper-aware of the thunder of his pulse, the way his pace of respiration felt stilted and unnatural. 

  With a grind of gears the lift finally arrived at the bottom of its track.

  Danse heard the armored footsteps approaching through the tunnels and he braced himself, hoping against hope that he was wrong, that everything was wrong. He couldn't be a synth. That couldn't be true. His entire existence couldn't be a lie. The emotions that ran rampant in him even now, the times he had longed to be less expressive, as sturdy and unwavering as his armor, the fear that tried to choke him...just a walking, talking falsehood?

  Danse's stomach dropped out when a knight and numerous scribes emerged from the end of the tunnel, the armored individual brandishing a heavy gatling laser. The paladin heard the weapon spin up in warning and he realized he wasn't even getting a shot across the bow or a chance to surrender. All doubt was removed from his mind. 

  Danse, his body moving without conscious input, flung himself to the side. He dropped his rifle in his rush and it was obliterated by the deadly laser fire that dogged his footsteps while he lunged for the elevator. Hammering the button to raise the lift once he was onboard, Danse stumbled into the far corner of the platform.

  " Abomination! " The knight screamed after him, making Danse cringe against the wall of the shaft. " Fuck you, what did you do with Danse?! " Lasers tore through the platform beneath Danse and the paladin staggered, almost losing his footing. " How dare you, freak! "

  Whatever Danse would have said in reply caught in his throat, his eyes blurring with pained tears as the lift platform teetered and shrieked to a halt. The knight continued to aim upwards from beneath the platform, heedless of the damage that could be done to him should the whole thing give way. Danse jumped and grabbed the lip of the shaft, the gears under his pauldrons clicking loudly as he hauled himself up and over onto the small landing. Double doors greeted him and he shouldered them open hurriedly, hearing a resounding clang! as the elevator grating pulled itself apart and collapsed behind him.

  The doors led to the outside of one of the exhaust pylons and Danse quickly swept his head back and forth, squinting in the irradiated light as he took in the landscape from his elevated perch. A lone vertibird sat empty beside the entrance to the site. They must have sent a vanguard squadron to... dispose of him before the rest of the fleet moved in.

  The scaffolding creaked threateningly beneath the weight of his armor and then gave out, sending Danse plummeting to the ground. The paladin gritted his teeth on impact, feeling the shock rattle his legs and spine. He didn't have time. He needed to get away.

  M7-97 .

  His radio buzzed with static, solidifying into what resembled a repeating distress signal as Danse fled Site Prescott. He quickened his pace as soon as he dared to, too concerned about distancing himself from the rest of the Brotherhood to worry about turning off his radio. But then, a specific portion of the staticky distress message caught his attention.

  "... remember that church steeple sticking out that we spotted a week ago? Go there, turn southwest and walk until you find a cave… " 

  Danse checked his compass, sighed, and then turned the radio up just enough so that he could determine if he was getting closer or further away from the origin point of the signal.

  Calling it a cave smacked of charity instead of reality. It was more of a hollowed-out landslide of debris, and it looked on the verge of collapsing beneath the heft of its own weight. Danse crouched down, listening intently. He could still hear the faint sound of more vertibirds high above, but he didn't hear any motion inside the cave.

  "... must have had a better suit or something… " The message continued repeating without a hitch.

  Emboldened, the paladin crept forward into the cramped space. His sabatons scored the dead earth beneath him, dislodging chunks of cracked asphalt with every ponderous step. All he could hope is that he wasn't sauntering into some deathclaw's den, or a nest of radscorpions. Danse loathed entering tight spaces in his power armor.

  His headlamp bounced off the walls, the light watered down and sickly from the heavy radiation storm that seethed overhead. Brain fungus cluttered the debris around him, bioluminescence glittering feebly in the gloom.

  The man who had set up the distress signal (a raider, if Danse had to guess based solely on his voice and the bedraggled body on the ground in front of him) appeared to have expired from the radiation. His suit of power armor stood empty, and after a perfunctory examination Danse quickly spotted the problem. The fusion core was untouched, inserted improperly and thus wasn't powering the suit. A rookie mistake, one that had cost this raider his life.

  On the spur of the moment, Danse made another choice that he knew would have serious repercussions. 

  Stepping out of his own armor, he hastily put the fresh core into his utility pouch and then extracted his half-spent one to slot into the raider's suit. He suddenly remembered Backhand's bandanna draped carefully around his neck and he fumbled with the cloth, tearing it free and shoving it into the pouch alongside the fresh core. 

  Radiation seared at his skin through his jumpsuit. Danse rushed to don the ramshackle armor, his body immediately noticing the difference in protection. The right leg on the armor was rusted through, but Danse didn't have the luxury of time on his side to change it out. At least the frame was still sound.

  Paladin Danse emerged from the other end of the cave, the raider armor shrieking in protest as he knocked the grit out of the joints. The rubber gaskets around the neck and gauntlets were worn to almost nothing, and Danse could feel the irradiated rain seeping into the suit. 

  He raised his head, squinting through the hissing droplets that marred the face shielding, and finally caught sight of the overpass in the distance when it was brought into stark contrast against the sky by a jagged flash of yellowed lightning.

  Danse didn't actively think for quite a while. He simply put one foot in front of the other and intermittently checked his compass, doing his best to avoid the meandering packs of ferals that dotted the perpetually gloam-shrouded landscape. This armor was barely capable of shielding him from the radiation; he wasn't overeager to test its combat capabilities.

  Unfortunately, a territorial deathclaw didn't give him much of a choice. Danse knew he was severely outmatched, and he certainly knew he wouldn't be able to outrun the swift creature. So it was down to him finding stable high ground, his service pistol cracking in the green twilight as he squared off with the massive beast.

  It roared and charged at him, bounding up the hillside faster than Danse could backpedal. He quickly found himself beneath the creature, the claws that were its namesake raking through the welded-together pauldrons while Danse pressed the muzzle of his pistol to the beast's unprotected stomach and pumped it full of bullets. The deathclaw roared again, fitting the top of Danse's helmet into its mouth and biting down.

  The shriek of metal rang in Danse's ears and his jaw locked up as a portion of the helm gave way, his nose immediately broken under the assault. 

  He prayed he hadn't run his magazine dry just yet, because reloading in this position might prove difficult. His left gauntlet grappled beneath the deathclaw's chin, crushing the mutated beast's throat until it finally released the grip it had on his helmet. Danse braced the point of his elbow against the ground at his side and just held down the trigger until the weapon clicked emptily. 

  The deathclaw was still fighting (albeit a bit less staunchly) and Danse took the opportunity to release his gun, slam his gauntlets down on the creature's prominent horns and twist its head violently until the neck snapped. 

  It went limp on top of him and Danse laid there for a moment, simply trying to catch his breath. He had been wholly silent through the encounter, and his heart sank as he determined that no human would have faced down a deathclaw so quietly. 

  M7-97 .

  A vertibird flew by overhead, a very familiar munitions crate dangling from the main body by way of a cargo cable. 

  Danse wriggled out from beneath the deathclaw's body once the flying vehicle had passed, managing to shed the helmet after he rose. He knew he must look grisly; he had felt his nose break and he could only imagine what else had shattered. 

  But the overpass that marked the edge of the Glowing Sea loomed nearby, a Lovecraftian sentry tall and motionless in the constant yellow-green lightning of the radstorms. The same urgency that had fueled Danse before returned once again as he heard the distant roar of more vertibirds. They would be searching for him.

  Danse lumbered forward, not really picking a direction so much as trying to move away as fast as he possibly could. He was limping in the armor but he didn't dare to stop and assess the damage. If he stopped, he was dead.

  So he didn't stop. 

  Danse ran through the night, the driving rain pooling at the gorget gasket before his next step would tilt his hips and dump the water down into the frame. He burned through the rest of his core and paused only momentarily to switch to the fresh one, agony spiking hot behind his eyes when he peeled his body free of the shredded pauldrons and slammed the new fusion core home in the backplate. Exhaustion knotted his muscles as he forced himself back into the suit. The metal latched down like the deathclaw's talons, perforating his shoulders anew and all but bonding him to the inside of the frame.

  And he didn't stop. One foot in front of the other, body wracked with shivers from being soaked to the skin, his mind terrifyingly empty, devoid of any thoughts, Danse simply fled. 

  The second core burned out just as the clouds were beginning to pink up at the horizon and Danse abandoned the armor in a grove of sticks that might have once been a picturesque copse of birch. Without armor the going was admittedly slower. Danse knew he had lost too much blood to keep this up for much longer without causing severe damage, possibly long-term effects--

  Did things like that even matter anymore? He was a synth .

  M7-97 .

  Just thinking about that reality again had Danse hiccupping and retching, the man staggering to grab hold of a tree as his legs tried to give out. The brittle trunk split under his ungainly weight and Danse found himself tumbling forward over a steep bluff, the paladin's body finally crashing to a halt in a nest of shrubs at the base of the cliff.

  With all the wind knocked out of his lungs, Danse welcomed the darkness of unconsciousness that rose to greet him.

  After that, it was a blur. Two tiny hands grabbed underneath his arms, Danse's large frame obviously too heavy to be budged by the owner of said hands. The taste of blood dripped down his throat from his broken nose, making his stomach churn. Danse couldn't even muster up the strength to open his eyes.

  " Easy there, Matt! He's hurt. Wait for your brothers and I ."

Part Fourteen

[aworldoffandoms]

Runaway - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Moscow

Pairing: Liam x MC [Ariel]

Word Count: 4, 759 (long post again...sorry)

Rating: M-ish 

Warnings: semi-sexual references...nothing scandalous

Summary: Liam and the gang arrive in Moscow to search for answers while Ariel reminisces on the past and her life-changing decision.

 MASTERLIST

Tag list: @hopefulmoonobject @annekebbphotography @am-i-invisible777 @blznbaby @khakie4 @lauradowning29 @blackcoffee85 @captain-kingliamsqueen @moneyfordiamonds @super-secret-fandom-blog @jovialyouthmusic @zaffrenotes @ao719 @umccall71 @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @pixieferry @pixelpenny @jlouise88

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 

It was dawn the following morning when Liam and the retinue arrived in Moscow, a car already waiting for them to take them to the hotel, though it was slow going with the snow blanketing the streets. There was a certain, strange beauty to it, but Liam couldn't deny that seeing it against the starry night did not hold the same amount of appeal as seeing Ariel's face light up in joy or the way her eyebrows creased when she silently disapproved of something or the way her mouth would lift up in a smirk when she'd tease him relentlessly.

No. A beautiful white winter pales in comparison to her.

Out of all of this . . . they had to prevail. The king and queen of Cordonia had been through too much - a false engagement, three assassination attempts, and now this. They couldn’t be wrenched apart; they’d been through too many trails already. That cipher was the key to making sure it would happen. He clung to it.

He was thoroughly aware that he had a duty to his people and his country. A duty that weighed heavily on his shoulders every day. Yet, he had a duty to his wife also.

Liam had cancelled all appointments for the next fortnight. It might have been a bit excessive but, this surely deserved more attention. Royals were going missing, and certainly, Moscow would be the key. Once again, the city would play its part in the history of the crowns of Europe.

While Hana had opted to stay behind to look after Valtoria, the others had managed the time well enough to follow him. And if Liam was being perfectly honest? He couldn't do it alone. He hadn't believed it at first, directing the investigation with his own hand, sealing every piece of information that came his way. But as the days passed, and as the hopes of finding his queen did as well, he had to accept the painful truth. He was just a man. They were as much as Ariel’s best friend’s as they were his. He would not be here without them. He trusted them with his life.

Liam sighs as he drops the luggage on the hotel floor after settling in for the night. Exhaustion was finally making its mark. The last four hours on a plane and undertaking last minute paperwork was tedious. His eyes stung even now from staring at documents and papers while on the flight and his hand ached from all the signing. The answers to where his wife would be escaped him, but apparently, a new bill to build more bathrooms in the Cordonian national park did not.

Liam almost wanted to fall back onto the bed, close his eyes and fall into sweet darkness so he’d at least have a reprieve, albeit brief. Yet, the cipher still gleamed in the crevice of the bags, beckoning him back.

Uncovering the meaning behind the cipher was all well and good but where did he go from here?

Ignorance truly was bliss.

***

Ariel drops the keys onto the table as she stops to turn on the light of her apartment. She sorts through her mail, under a fake name, Serena Cordin. It was nothing important, she realized, with a breath of relief. A few advertising emails, a message from a coworker pleading her to take over a shift. But not now, Ariel decided. The days were catching up with her, and she had some sleep scheduled to catch up on.

Just as she is about to head into the bathroom to change after a long shift at the tavern, her mobile starts to ring.

She plucks it out of her pocket and finds the screen black. Perplexed, her eyes fixate on it again as it begins to vibrate.

By the fifth or sixth ring, Ariel's brain kicks in and she realises that it's her other phone.  

Her disposable, untraceable one.

Shit!

Ariel curses silently as the ringing drones on. She drops her bag and races to her bedroom, unlocking the draw with a quick twist of a key. There, nestled inside a bundle of sheets and an errant handkerchief is the tiny silver phone, buzzing its head off.

As she picks it up to answer, the ringing stops as a missed call flicks up on the screen. No voicemail. Ariel didn't have to know who it was - she had memorized the number as soon as she had a text arrive from it the first time.

“Damnit.” Ariel huffs, her irritation flaring up again after her rather crappy night at the bar. Couldn't she go one night without a creepy cold buffoon trying to feel her up?

She could easily have socked him in the face but knew she'd be fired if she did. No matter. If she ever got back to Cordonia and her queenship, she could easily have him extradited. The thought, though absurd, made her smile.

Ariel sighs as she takes a deep breath and exhales, glancing down to the phone, vacillating between a shower or bed. There was an all-day shift waiting for her tomorrow and she already felt the exhaustion settling in. Her muscles ached, her bones were stiff. If she didn’t loosen them, she swore they’d crack. She was working herself thin, bussing tables, pouring beer upon beer just so she could escape the intruding thoughts of the one person she promised herself she wouldn't think about.

She drove herself crazy every night thinking about him. Half the time she wanted to damn it all to hell and just go back to the place she loved so much. To the man that she so desperately missed.

But she couldn't. They were holding her back. Dangling his life in her face like he was a piece of meat and she was a rabid animal.

The call finally goes answered. Fingers hovering over the keys, the little clicks of the buttons echo through the chilly apartment air. Her contact knew to ring only if the information or situation was dire.

And from the tone of her informant - it was.

Her pulse sped up and her stomach twists in nervous butterflies as she hears her voice speak in a quick, sharp whisper. The intent in her was voice clear.

This was serious.

“Ariel. Finally. I've got something to tell you and it's imperative that you know.”

Ariel holds back the desire to gasp, the breath caught in her throat. She clenches her fists in anticipation or fear. The two emotions blurred together into a simmering storm within her stomach.

“What is it?”

The contact takes a deep breath and speaks, her voice almost hesitant, breathy as if she’d run miles just to deliver the message.

“He’s found the cipher.”

It was only four words but those four words sent a tidal wave of emotions to pulse through her. Fear. Shock. Relief. Horror. More fear.

The person on the other end didn't need to elaborate on who this he was. Ariel knew. Her heart skips a beat as she realises that things are getting underway. It might have been a two and a half year wait but it's a good start nonetheless.

Her heart squeezes painfully. From this day forward he would be in danger. She wants to warn him but Ariel knows she cannot. Despite how cruel it is - he had to do this by himself. Liam might be oblivious to the real danger he was in but she could not stop the outcome if he proceeded with his search.

Ariel swallows the lump lodged in her throat. She wondered how she moved through each day. Most days she was on autopilot, just going through the motions of work, researching and being a firm, direct soothing voice to the royals that needed it.  She’s existed in autopilot ever since she left and she needed rest. Anything to put them both out of this lonely misery.

She missed her husband so much. Her love, her life, her Liam.

Ariel clenches her jaw and clamps her eyes shut as those memorable blue eyes appear behind closed lids. Those eyes that she could fall into forever. His easy, charming smile which could melt her on the spot.

Ugh. This is torture.

Ariel straightens her posture, the training from Bertrand and the perfectly composed field practice in front of the cameras kicking in again instinctively. She clears her throat, her voice returning to the classic graceful voice she used to use in every royal interview. No hint of falter. No hint of the pain currently slicing through her like tiny knives.

“Thanks for telling me, Marguerite.”

“You’re welcome, Ariel.”

“Do you have the message to send to him? If they have arrived at the hotel -- send it to him immediately.”

Marguerite hums in affirmation.

“I’ve found where they are staying and have got his room number. I'll see to it that the message is delivered.”

“Good. Good. Make sure it gets there and be sure to firmly say it is delivered to Liam. We don't want another situation like Johannesburg.”

Ariel shudders at the memory. That was a close call.

“I will make sure I do that, Your Majesty.”

Ariel sighs, her gut twisting at the title. She hadn't heard that in nearly three years.

“Marguerite . . . how many times have I told you to just call me Ariel?”

Marguerite chuckles on the other end. “Sorry, your maj-- Ariel. Bad habit. I guess I haven’t forgotten those etiquette lessons. I truly doubt you have either.”

Ariel smiles, shaking her head in amusement.

“Well . . . I don't blame you. It took me a while to figure out which one was a salad fork and which one was the dessert fork, so I'm not judging.”

Marguerite bursts out laughing outright and Ariel joins in, having a shared understanding of royal etiquette. It was nice.

“Well, Marguerite, I'll bid you goodnight. There’s an early shift tomorrow. Send me something when it’s done. And please . . . ” Ariel pauses, taking a deep breath and then exhales.

“Be prepared for him to arrive at your doorstep. He'll want answers and he will come to you for them. I am just not sure how he'll be.”

Liam was a controlled man in front of dignitaries and cameras. Yet, when it had anything to do with Ariel, he struggled to maintain that perfectly controlled facade.

“How long will it take them?”

“I don't know, Princess, but I'm sure it'll be soon.”

Marguerite sighs, the weariness in the sound evident. “Okay, I'll be prepared. It's not like I can enjoy this Russian winter anyway.”

Ariel chuckles. “You and me both, honey.”

They laugh at that, exchange polite goodbyes and hang up. Ariel stuffs the phone back in the drawer, locking it up tight.

She had to take every precaution with this phone and she wasn't going to be careless now.

With her eyes bleary from exhaustion and her feet throbbing, Ariel prepares a bath and soaks for a good while before hopping out, relaxed and ready for bed.

Ariel knew she was tired, evident by the heaviness in her eyes. Thankfully, they open for a few seconds more.

She sifts through her bedside drawer and slips out a few photos, cracked down the middle from endless unfolding and crumpling in pockets. The ache of missing him and her friends almost pulling her down and drowning her in her anguish as she stares at the carefree smiles of everyone she held dear.

She hated this. She hated everything about the situation she was in.

Right now she should be having the best life possible. Ruling beside her king, bringing positive change to their beautiful little kingdom. She should be thriving beside Liam, yet, here she was alone, heart breaking all because of those bastards.

Why did they torture her like this? It was unfair.

Her heartbeat runs against her ribcage, rethinking back to the week leading up to the night she left. The week she was determined to drink up all the love and happiness before she would rip it away from herself. The pain lances through her insides again, her breath short as her quiet sobs wracked her already tired body.

Two and a half years ago…

The ink sinks into the paper, emerging as crisp lines of cursive dictating the outline of the new children's hospital. That would suffice, Ariel thought to herself. It was at least one thing she could do. Ariel’s cursive script imprint the paper as she signs against the dotted line for a bill that had just passed through the Council for a new wing in the Cordonian Children’s Hospital.

Though she was Queen and she held power, Liam had the final say with his signature and wax sigil. He was King after all.

Once she signed with her blue fountain pen, the black ink drying immediately, her neck prickles as a dark shadow looms over her.

She smiles and glances up, her eyes meet her husband’s and she can't help the stutter her heart gives at his presence.

“All done, my love?” Liam inquires, the smile in his voice evident and his eyes beaming with pride even though his face was a mask of neutral professionalism.

“Yes. All it needs is your signature and seal and then we can send it off.”

Liam nods, his gold fountain pen already between his fingers as he signs and seals, and sends the document to be filed away in the database.

It was a done deal now. The die had been cast.

Ariel sighs in content. Her time as queen had already brought promise to the people of Cordonia and she couldn't be more thrilled.

Ariel stands up and pushes out her chair, walking over to Liam, wrapping her arms around his waist as he quietly conversed with the French ambassador over the phone, his accent liltingly falling over the complex words beautifully.

Ariel loved when she heard Liam speak in a different language. She always got a thrill from it. His French was posh and refined, with just the hint of the Cordonian accent shining through. His Italian rolled and swelled lightly like the oceans just outside the city. His Russian wasn’t half bad either.

Liam’s large hand came up and encased hers, twining his fingers through hers as she waited patiently for him to finish the call. Her eyes close against his back as her mind raced forward seven days. There was such little time after the royal engagements and papers as if he had married them instead of her. She vowed that wouldn't be the case in the next week.

Once hearing the goodbye in French, Ariel squeezed his waist again and removed her arms and walked over to her desk to grab her tablet off her study desk to check up on her schedule.

Her stomach drops when she sees the date a week from now.

It was a bittersweet thing to swallow. The day of their anniversary - the day that they had become husband and wife. And the day that would soon separate the two of them. How could marriage be like that? That part broke her.

She was doing it all for him. To keep him alive. If Liam left this world -- she could not live in a world without him. Ariel could not take that chance. She had no choice. The Sons of Earth could not threaten her husband's life.

Ariel sighs as she puts down her tablet, closing her eyes.

A smile pulls her lips, even though she felt the despair kick in, when Liam’s strong arms snake around her waist and he rests his chin against her shoulder, his lips close to her ear as he kisses the sensitive area just below it.

“Are you happy, love?” Liam whispers, his low deep voice making her shiver.

“Very happy.”

Liam chuckles, spinning Ariel around before pinning her against her desk, his mouth immediately going to her neck.

“Happy enough to celebrate your marvellous victory with the bill?”

Ariel drops her head back to allow Liam better access.

Ariel laughs breathlessly, a shiver of desire pooling at her core.

“I'm all for celebrating, my king. What do you have in mind?”

Liam leans back, his blue eyes dilated and dark with want. “Oh, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Ariel raises her eyebrows. “Care to show me?”

And show her he did, their mouths meeting in a frenzy as Liam grips Ariel’s hips and shoves her against the door of her study, biting and nipping at her neck as she moans out his name.

Ariel gasps as Liam’s hand trails underneath her dress and up her inner thigh, their mouths meeting in another fervent kiss, their tongues dancing together.

When Liam’s fingers meet her sweet spot, Ariel moans out his name, already breathless as the desire spreads through her as her lower abdomen twists with need.

Liam and Ariel celebrate their victory a number of times before their interruption of a knock on Ariel’s office door.

They reluctantly dress and with one final kiss, Liam slips out the door and leaves his wife to deal with her assistant who had to finalise the details of the Charity event and a few other odds and ends which needed her attention.  

Her heart is in her throat as she signs the last of the catering order for their anniversary party. She knew that the morning after, it would be the last time she’ll be able to see, touch, hug and kiss Liam because she will vanish after that.

She will leave Cordonia without a Queen. She will leave her friends, her life, her family behind.

A tear slips past her eye. If her assistant noticed, she didn’t show it as her mask remained neutral behind her blue-rimmed glasses.

“Thanks, Hillary.”

“You’re welcome, Your Grace.”

Ariel smiles as Hillary steps out of the door to her study and leaves Ariel to her thoughts and the impending event that will change the course of her life and those closest to her.

***

Ariel’s nerves are at an all-time high as her leg bounces as she sits next to Liam as they share a light conversation with their friends, the Charity ball well underway.

Her mind is elsewhere as she ticks off her to-do list in her mind. She had almost all of what she needed. She had organised Gladys to come to her wardrobe while Liam had a late night meeting at the end of the week with the French and Croatian ambassadors, to dispose of all her belongings and ship them to her estate in Valtoria. She made sure he would be out of the palace for that to happen. She arranged it in the first place.

A hand rests on her thigh, and she smiles when she glances up and meets the blue eyes of Liam, the corners of his lips pulled down in concern.

“Are you alright, Ariel?”

Ariel smiles as she leans back and places her hand on Liam’s, giving it a squeeze. “Yes, I’m fine, Liam. I’m just thinking about the council meeting tomorrow.”

Liam grins reassuringly as he kisses her cheek. “I’m sure you’ll be fine tomorrow, love. You are a natural at public speaking and you’ll capture their attention -- just like you did me.”

Ariel grins, her cheeks aflame as she blushes. She leans forward and kisses him, both have smiles on their faces as they lean back from each other.

“Thanks, honey. I’m sure I can use my natural charms and seduction to win them over with this proposal like I did you.”

Liam frowns, his jaw clenched in displeasure. “I certainly hope you don’t.”

Ariel rolls her eyes, a smirk on her lips. “Oh, Liam.”

After all this time, Liam still had a jealous streak and she had kind of a sick joy in making him feel that. It made her realise just how much he cared for her.

Liam’s hand constricts against her knee. “Would you like to dance, my love?”

Ariel nods as they make their way to the dance floor as the Cordonian waltz breezes through the ballroom.

Ariel treasures this dance, her head against Liam’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

Liam kisses the top of her head, his arms tight against her waist to pull her closer. She clenches her jaw against the sting against her eyes. She will miss this most of all.

She tries not to think of all the things she’ll be losing in two days and just basks in this dance with her husband. The sound of his heartbeat the only thing from keeping her falling apart.

 ***

Ariel releases a shuddering breath as she steps out of the master bedroom where her husband slept soundly in their bed. Her eyes blurry with the unshed tears she was determined not to let fall until she was safely away from the palace and on her way to her destination far away from the one place, she called home. Before she made the trek down the quiet hallways in the dead of night, the halls empty of servants, the lights dimmed in the late hour, she took a moment to drink in the handsome features of Liam, his features relaxed in deep slumber, his eyelashes brushing against the sharp angle of his cheekbones. She softly brushes the hair away from Liam’s face that had fallen against his forehead in his sleep.

Her heart splintering in a few thousand pieces before her, she kisses his forehead lightly, stares at him a few moments longer and leaves as she whispers a final goodbye.

She covers her mouth to stop the sob that threatens to bubble up from her throat.

I don’t know if I can do this…

A small voice flitters to the front of her mind, her desire to stay behind and just let things happen, let the threats become a reality just so she can stay with Liam.

No. No. I cannot let anything happen to Liam or his crown. This country and his people mean everything to him.

Ariel takes a deep breath as she had come to a stop in front of the palace, the black SUV almost invisible in the black of night.

No. She had to do this. If not for herself but for Liam. They would kill him if she didn’t and the monarchy and this country would fall apart without him.

Liam will find her goodbye note in the morning. She would be long gone before he could have any chance of locating her.

***

Present Day

Liam shivers as a brisk cold breeze sweeps around him and his friends, the white snow steadily falling from the grey sky.

He was prepared for the harshness of Russia’s weather, considering Lythikos was much the same in winter but this was a lethal level of freezing. His nose was numb and he almost couldn’t feel his feet, the thermals underneath his clothes doing little to dwell the sharp sting of the weather.

The entourage was huddled outside a restaurant, having just finished lunch after spending the whole day trying to find anyone who could lead them to any sort of answer that Liam desperately wanted. Liam had Bastien search the databases and cameras around the vicinity of the airport in the last few months to see if any of the missing royals arrived here in any capacity.  

It was a long shot but a shot nonetheless.

No such luck as of yet.

Liam sighs, the fog formed from his breath at the cold air puffing around his face.

“Shall we head back to the hotel? I have it on good authority that we won’t find any answers here. We’ve searched all day and nothing has come to pass.”

Drake huffs as he pulls his scarf tighter around his neck.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. It’s freaking freezing out here.”

“Plus, we have been at this for three days and we have come up with nothing. I have no desire to get frostbite,” Olivia grumbles, as she delicately pulls on her coat to give her more warmth. Although she was used to Lythikos winters, Moscow was a different story altogether.

Liam sighs again as Bastien arrives with a rental, all of them shuffling into the back, his’s heart heavy as he gazes out the window. That cipher might have been a big help in the fact that it told them where to go but anything else where it said it’d assist them in finding the answers they needed which were despairingly nonexistent.

Liam resists the urge to grunt and punch the door in his frustration, as anger burns through his chest. This was becoming absurd. Chasing information about a cipher that did not give him any insight into where Ariel could possibly be was becoming nothing short of ludicrous and desperate on his part.

Was he just blind?

Was he so delirious that he followed this clue just because it was even remotely linked to his missing wife?

A groan bubbles up in his throat, yet he swallows. There was no need to alert his friends to his inner turmoil, although, they probably knew anyway.

Once they reach the hotel, Liam and the others march out of the car, the bite in the air sinking into their skin until they breathe out in relief at the warmth that engulfs them once inside.

The weather was becoming too cold for any of them to continue on with the investigation on this particular day. Liam felt the exhaustion weighing him down already.

Drake and Olivia give a parting wave to Liam and Maxwell, both of them exchange a smile as they walk to the elevator, hand-in-hand.  

Liam’s eyes follow them and a surprising twist of envy snakes through his gut at the sight. He was happy for the couple, but another part of him longed for the gentle touch of a partner. For once, he was the one shut out of it.

His jaw muscle ticks as he turns back to Maxwell, willing the absurd jealousy to ebb away. He doesn’t need that. He needs to focus.

They both bid each other farewell for the afternoon as Bastien as he hovers by his side and informs Liam that any evidence of royals entering the country had appeared fruitless and nothing worth pursuing.

Liam nods. “Thanks Bastien. Please keep me updated.”

Bastien gives a subtle bow to Liam as he turns and heads to his room but before he can, the hotel manager steps in front of him to gather his attention.

“Mr. Rys?”

Liam lifts a brow at his fake name. He often needed to remind himself of this procedure when trying to appear like a normal citizen.

“Yes, Sergei?” Liam asks.

“A package was delivered for you, sir.”

Liam’s eyebrows raise but he keeps his face composed.

“Oh?”

Sergi nods and starts walking over to the reception desk, quickly shooting off in Russian to a woman who obediently scuffles for a package in the bottom compartments. Liam duly follows, waiting patiently for it to be handed over.

It’s simple postage with only the address of the hotel and the number of his suite.

Liam’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Who else could know where I am?  

Now he was really curious as to what was in this. It couldn't possibly be related to anything Cordonia so what else could it be? Liam shakes his head in confusion. Who would have the resources to find him here? He arrived incognito.

Bastien leaves his charge to continue is journey up to his own suite as Liam strides to the elevator, the item securely tucked under his arm.  

Once inside his room, Liam shuts and locks the door, anxious to see the contents of the mysterious delivery. He grips the package in his hand and rips the lip of the package open. The contents inside it slip out, scattering all over the bed.

Liam leans down and his eyes widen and his pulse quickens as he finds photo upon photo of a few persons of interest that Nazario had mentioned to him. He sifts through the photos, most of them the same but stops on an old decrepit apartment building. It wasn’t something that caught the eye of most people. It looked rather unliveable in his honest opinion.

But flipping over the photo, he almost chokes at what he finds. Surely, this couldn’t be.

KOLOMNA. 25715 PRIROZ STREET,  KNOCK THREE TIMES, RAP THREE. WAIT.

The puzzle was coming together.

[pvrestwolff]

---- pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name; but what's puzzling you is the nature of my game.

trident’s task 000; a detailed introduction.

---- basic information

full name: ekaterina mikhailovna aliena zamolodchikova-markovy. pronunciation: yeh-kah-ti-ree-nah // mik-hail-ovna // a-lye-na // zamol-ohd-chkova // m-ah-rk-oh-fi. meaning: ekaterina ( the name ekaterina is a russian name, the meaning is ‘pure’ ), mikhailovna ( the name mikhailovna is a russian name, the meaning is ‘daughter of mikhail’ ), aliena ( the name aliena is a belarusian and latin name, the meaning is ‘foreign’ or ‘stranger’ ), zamolodchikova ( the name zamolodchikova is a russian name, the meaning is ‘bold and dashing female’ ), markovy ( the name markovy is a russian and serbian name, the meaning is ‘of Mars, the god of war’ ) reasoning: ekaterina was named for a dear friend of natallia’s, while her first middle name came from her father, and her second came from natallia’s oldest sister anastasia’s middle name, the original heir to the throne. her last names are her father’s and her mother’s respectively. nickname(s): kati, kat, nina, erica. preferred name(s): ekaterina or erica, but she does not mind certain nicknames from certain people. birth date: january 11th 1988. age: thirty. zodiac: capricorn // rabbit yang fire or tiger yin fire. gender: female. pronouns: she/her. romantic orientation: platonipandemiromantic. sexual orientation: platonipansexual. nationality: belarusian, russian. ethnicity: caucasian, ashkenazi jewish. current location: tulach island. living conditions: mediocre, living in the tulach house. title(s): crown princess of belarus, princess, belarus’ heir, grand duchess of vitebsk, the demon queen of minsk (colloquial), 

---- background

birth place: the palace of snov, minsk, belarus. hometown: minsk, belarus. social class: royalty, upper. education level: masters degree. father: mikhail zamolodchikov-markovy. mother: natallia zamolodchikova-markovy. adopted?: no. sibling(s): two younger sisters and one younger brother. birth order: eldest. children: none. pet(s): daisy (maltese shih-tzu) and jay (labrador kelpie). other important relatives: tatiana nikolaevna ( cousin ), anya nikolaevna ( cousin ), ainsley dùghlas ( cousin ), alexander romanov-nikolaevna ( uncle ), nataliya kashkanov-nikolaevna ( aunt ), gavin dùghlas ( uncle ) and anastasia markovy-dùghlas ( aunt ). ( @tatiana-nikolaevna, @anyanik, @hrhxainsley ) previous relationships: charles flanagan ( first crush, murder accomplice ), grace thomas ( ex-girlfriend ), luka rossi ( ex-lover ) and unnamed prince ( ex-lover ). ( @classiciisms, @luka-rossi )

---- skills & abilities

physical strength: exceptionally strong for her size, she’s quite good at the salmon ladder and deadlifts. teamwork: she can and will butt heads with strong personalities or stupid people, but always works to reach the goal. talents: running, swordplay, fencing, knife handling, gun-handling, hand-to-hand combat, martial arts, ballroom dancing, adaptability, interpersonal skills, sketching, linguistics, communication, cryptography, symbology, and bdsm. shortcomings: intrapersonal skills, trust issues, manipulative. language(s) spoken: belarusian ( first language ), russian ( first language ), ukrainian, english, italian, french, gaelic, yiddish, hebrew, latin. drive?: yes for a car, yes for a motorcycle. ride a bicycle?: yes. swim?: yes. play an instrument?: piano, violin. play chess?: yes. pick a lock?: yes.

---- physical appearance & characteristics

face claim: lyndsy fonseca. eye color: blue, with a hazel ring around the pupil. hair color: honey brown hair type/style: thin and soft but abundant, naturally curly, normally sits at shoulder length but has gone uncut since being on the island. dominant hand: right, though when she was younger attempted to become ambidextrous. height: 5′4″. weight: 135lbs, but has lost muscle and weight since being on the island. exercise habits: every other day, early morning, erica would normally go for a 5km run outside. depending on her schedule, she will also practice either her fencing, her martial arts, go to the gym for strength training. the mornings she does not run she will spend her time doing yoga. skin tone: tan/olive. tattoos: a tiger on her left middle finger, a butterfly on the back of her neck, four birds on her left forearm, a sun and two stars behind her right ear, a tree on the right of her torso and hermes wings on the outsides of both her ankles. piercings: firsts, seconds, belly button, right ear helix. marks/scars: what look like straight and accurate cuts all over her body from her training, the scars are on her arms in particular, though they have faded and are not immediately noticeable. notable features: eyes, lips, hands, legs, ass. usual expression: resting bitch face. clothing style: neat blouses, skirts, heels, vests, a jacket, comfortable pants and the heaviest boots she can find. jewelry: none. allergies: none. body temperature: her body is warmer than most, and as a result environments feel much colder for her. diet: strict vegetarian, also tends to avoid eating eggs or smoking cigarettes that use castoreum when she can. physical ailments: short-sightedness, astigmatisms.

---- psychology

mbti type: entj-t ( the commander ) or istj-t ( the logistician ). //** technically untypable due to borderline personality disorder. enneagram type: type 8w7 ( the challenger, wing is the enthusiast ). moral alignment: chaotic neutral, borders on chaotic evil at times. temperament: choleric. element: earth. primary intelligence type: linguistic, logical, kinesthetic, musical. approximate IQ: 135, superior intelligence. mental conditions/disorders: borderline personality disorder, minor depression, obsessive-compulsive tendencies and sociopathic tendencies,  sociability: usually an observer, cold until she can trust people and often uses a façade and flattery to win people over for her own benefit. emotional stability: no. obsession(s): looking after her weaponry, literature and keeping organised notes on everything in her life. compulsion(s): neatness. phobia(s): autophobia, atychiphobia, atelophobia. addiction(s): currently -- nicotine, alcohol and caffeine. previously -- cocaine and mdma. prone to violence? yes.

---- mannerisms

speech style: while speaking in languages she is fluent in, ekaterina speaks quickly and smoothly, but while speaking in english, she can converse well but not as quickly, she may pause to find the correct word or misuse idioms, sayings or phrases. accent: a mix of belarusian and russian, which has softened after staying in english speaking countries long enough. quirks: smoothing down dog-eared pages of books, running her fingers along the rim of glasses she is drinking from, hyper-focusing on work that must be done until it is finished, giving people special nicknames and standing on top of buildings to stargaze. hobbies: exercising, fencing, martial arts, reading, playing piano, exploring new places, sketching, creating/using ciphers for her journals, assassinations and murder. habits: adjusting her glasses constantly ( when she wears them ), flexing her hands, switching between languages and sharpening her knives ( when she has them ). nervous tics: running her fingers through her hair, tapping her middle finger and her thumb together and disassembling and reassembling her guns ( when she has them ). drives/motivations: power, ambition, freedom, justice, duty and loyalty. fears: rejection, failure, losing her loved ones and being totally alone. positive traits: rational, adaptable and powerful. negative traits: sadistic, manipulative and ruthless. sense of humor: dark and sarcastic. do they curse often? yes.

---- favourites

activity: swordplay and fencing. animal: tigers and bluebirds. beverage: anything alcoholic. otherwise, coffee. book: the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald, frankenstein by mary shelley, do androids dream of electric sheep? by philip k. dick, the elenium by david eddings, the hogfather by terry pratchett, his dark materials by philip pullman, the wizard of oz by frank l. baum, alice in wonderland by lewis carroll, the illuminae files by amie kaufman and jay kristoff, the starbound trilogy by amie kaufman and meagan spooner and inkheart by cornelia funke. color: purple and gold. food: strawberries, or any type of berry. flower: tiger lily. gem: rainbow moonstone. holiday: new year’s eve. mode of transportation: motorcycle. movie: reservoir dogs, kill bill, jeux d’enfants, indiana jones, monty python, studio ghibli, anastasia, fight club, pulp fiction and the princess bride. musical artist: stevie wonder, the four tops, the supremes, phil collins, no doubt, gwen stefani, tatu, pvris, bastille, sia, the beatles, andrew belle, the temptations and fleetwood mac. quote/saying: “we know what we are, but know not what we may be.” scenery: forests. scent: petrichor, strawberry and coffee,  sport: fencing, lacrosse and soccer. television show: she doesn’t watch tv. weather: cloudy and mild.

---- attitudes

greatest dream: denying her claim to the belarusian throne and experiencing true freedom. greatest fear: rejection, failure, losing her loved ones, being totally alone and ascending to the throne. most at ease when: drinking, smoking and reading a book. least at ease when: powerless, weak and when she does not know something she feels she should. worst possible thing that could happen: her entire family is killed because of her actions. biggest achievement ( to date ): managing to maintain a semi-normal relationship with grace and reducing crimes in belarus through deals with members of organised criminal syndicates. biggest regret: allowing charlie to disappear from her life, manipulating the two princes and ruining her first betrothal. most embarrassing moment: ekaterina does not do embarrassing things. biggest secret: she finds special pleasure in killing those who deserve it. top priorities: self-preservation, freedom, protecting loved ones.

[inyri]

Equivalent Exchange (a SWTOR story): Chapter 32- Showtime

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E (this chapter: M) Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire.)

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Showtime

Almost ready.

He sits cross-legged on the flat top of the dressing table, watching Nine; she stands in the middle of the room, tossing her head back and forth as long silver-white hair floats cloudlike from side to side and finally settles around her shoulders. He knows it’s a wig- he watched her put it on five minutes ago- just like he knows her eyes are really green and not bright blue, but it doesn’t make the change any less striking. He could have passed her in the street and not recognized her.

Which, Theron supposes, is the point.

“It’s good,” she says to Kaliyo, who looks up from fiddling with the airbrush.. “Ready when you are.”

“Of course it’s good. Like I don’t know how to fix it so it won’t fall off.” With a snort, Kaliyo smacks the compressor with one fist. “How many times have we done this?”

“Too many. Let me-”

Nine’s holo rings. It’s buried somewhere in the folded pile of her clothing, there on the table next to him, and when she gestures he reaches into her jacket pocket (a best guess, but that’s where it usually lives if she’s not wearing her tactical belt, which she wasn’t today) and rummages until he can feel it vibrating against his hand. Pulling it free, he glances at it. “It’s Lana. Right on time.”

She wrinkles her nose. “It’s that late already? Shit- hi, Lana.”

“Hello to you, too. Not a bad time, I hope?” The figure in the projection’s hooded, face cast in shadow, but he knows her voice almost as well as Nine’s.

(Now that’s a weird thought, but it might actually be true. They’ve spent a long time running together, literally and figuratively, all the way back to Rish; in the years they spent looking for Nine he went weeks on end in deep cover where the only friendly voice he heard was Lana’s.

If he never has to do that again, it’ll be too soon, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Nine was worth it.)

“I’m just a slow dresser, so I’ve got to get made up while we chat. You don’t mind, do you?” Nine gestures toward Kaliyo and the airbrush as Lana pushes her hood back to reveal her face. “It needs time to dry, or-”

“By all means.” With a shrug, Lana leans forward. “We’re on schedule on your end, I take it?”

She undoes the sash around her waist and lets the thin robe fall to the ground, nonchalant and still talking over the rising noise of the compressor despite being about ninety-eight percent naked- that probably isn’t legally qualified to be underwear, not that he’s complaining. “Curtain goes up in half an hour. Two and a half to time zero.”

Lana doesn’t even blink. “I’m just about to leave for the rendezvous point. Veeroa and her team are on their way.”

“Good.” Turning, Nine lifts her arms and folds them across her chest and he watches the pass of the brush, the red letters etched on her side vanishing beneath layers of makeup. She’s getting thinner, he thinks, even over the last few weeks; he can count every rib, her hipbones prominent where his hands remember curves, and he makes a mental note to make sure she eats later. “Theron will have his comm on all night if anything changes. Remember, if the turrets don’t go down, get your team out of there.”

Lana shakes her head. “This is our only chance. Even if things don’t go as planned, we still ought to-”

“That’s an order. You-” she snaps, her head turning back over her shoulder to look at the holo- “are not expendable, and we all know what happened to the first resistance team. Either this goes properly or it doesn’t go at all.”

“Yes. Understood.”

Kaliyo prods at her thigh with a fingertip; Nine makes a quarter-rotation, facing away from him, (There’s a little red spot, a perfect circle of irritated skin that isn’t one of her old scars, on her lower back. She hasn’t been hurt recently, he’s sure- but when he looks beyond her he can see the chair on the far side of the room with its button-studded cushions and he thinks of last night and-

yeah, that one’s probably his fault).

“It’s going to be fine,” he says. “We’ve got this.”

“I hope you’re right, for all our sakes.” When she says it Lana smiles, though, and straightens up. “And since when are you an optimist?”

Nine makes another quarter-turn, looks at him and winks. “Someone’s got to be.”

(Read more at either of the links above- mobile’s not liking the formatting on the full version, I’m afraid!)

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 0; 1; 1 Bar Phone Signal; 1 Bar Wi-Fi Signal; 1 Side Dice; 1-Star Dragonball; 1-Up; 1-Up Mushroom; 1-Up Text; 1/1 Domino; 1/2 Domino; 1/2 Heart Container; 1/3 Domino; 1/4 Domino; 1/4 Heart Container; 1/5 Domino; 1/6 Domino; 1/7 Domino; 1/8 Domino; 1/9 Domino; 100 Bonus Points; 100 Rupees; 104th Trainees Squad Crest; 11 Music Disc; 13 Music Disc; 2; 2 Bamboo; 2 Bar Phone Signal; 2 Bar Wi-Fi Signal; 2 Side Dice; 2-Leaf Clover; 2-Star Dragonball; 2/2 Domino; 2/3 Domino; 2/4 Domino; 2/5 Domino; 2/6 Domino; 2/7 Domino; 2/8 Domino; 2/9 Domino; 2014 FIFA World Cup Logo; 2nd Potion; 2snacks Icon; 3; 3 Bamboo; 3 Bar Phone Signal; 3 Bar Wi-Fi Signal; 3 Bombs; 3 Side Dice; 3-Star Dragonball; 3-Up Moon; 3/3 Domino; 3/4 Domino; 3/4 Heart Container; 3/5 Domino; 3/6 Domino; 3/7 Domino; 3/8 Domino; 3/9 Domino; 300 Rupees; 3D Glasses; 3rd Street Saints’ Logo; 4; 4 Bamboo; 4 Bar Phone Signal; 4 Bar Wi-Fi Signal; 4 Side Dice; 4-Star Dragonball; 4/4 Domino; 4/5 Domino; 4/6 Domino; 4/7 Domino; 4/8 Domino; 4/9 Domino; 420 Icon; 4chan Logo; 5; 5 Arrows; 5 Bar Phone Signal; 5 Bamboo; 5 Bar Wi-Fi Signal; 5 Bombs; 5 Rupees; 5 Seconds of Summer Logo; 5 Side Dice; 5 Silver Arrows; 5-Star Dragonball; 5/5 Domino; 5/6 Domino; 5/7 Domino; 5/8 Domino; 5/9 Domino; 6; 6 Bamboo; 6 Side Dice; 6-Star Dragonball; 6/6 Domino; 6/7 Domino; 6/8 Domino; 6/9 Domino; 7; 7 Bamboo; 7 Side Dice; 7-Star Dragonball; 7-Up Logo; 7/7 Domino; 7/8 Domino; 7/9 Domino; 8; 8 Ball; 8 Bamboo; 8 Side Dice; 8/8 Domino; 8/9 Domino; 9; 9 Bamboo; 9/9 Domino; 9 Side Dice; 9GAG Logo; ? Block; ??? Type Icon; ???/The Blue Baby 

A; A Button; A Elder Futhark Rune; A Logo; A State of Trance Logo; A Tile; A-Acute; A-Circumflex; A-Macron; A-Umlaut; Aang; ABBA Logo; ABDL Flag; Abimegender Flag; Abnegation Faction Symbol; Aborosexual Flag; Abra; Abraham Lincoln; Absol; Abstergo Entertainment Logo; Abstergo Industries Logo; AC/DC Logo; Ace; Aceflux Flag; Acespike Flag; Achievement Hunter Logo; Acorn; Adagio Dazzle’s Cutie Mark; Adeisexual Flag; Adidas Logo; Adipose; Admiral Ackbar; Adventure Time Logo; Aegislash; Aerodactyl; Aesc; African Grey Parrot; Agahnim; Agate Ring; Age Play Flag; Agender Flag; Agender Symbol; Agility Skill Symbol; Ahirukutchi; Ahsoka Tano; Air Element Symbol; Air Man; Air Rune; Airbender Symbol; Airou; Airplane; Airship; Aka Shatsu no Rozerutchi; Akachantchi; Akamaru; Akatsuki Logo; Akiyamalidatchi; Akoiromantic Flag; Aku Aku; Akuma; Akuma's Logo; Alabama; Alabaster; Aladdin Sane Logo; Alakazam; Alaska; Albino Cat Eye; Albino Llama; Alex; Alexandrite; Alexigender Flag; Algeria Flag; Alice; Alien; All-Night Mask; Alliance Insignia; Alliance to Restore the Republic/Rebel Alliance Logo; Alomomola; AMAB Trans Flag; Amaterasu; Amaura; Amazonite; Amber; Amber Potion; Ambonec Flag; American Football; American Football Conference Logo; American Horror Story: Asylum Logo; American Horror Story: Coven Logo; American Horror Story: Freak Show Logo; American Horror Story: Hotel Logo; American Horror Story Logo; Amethyst; Amethyst Ring; Amicussexual Flag; Amity Faction Symbol; Ampersand; Amulet of Glory; Amy Rose Icon; AmyLee33; An Dango; Anahata Symbol; Anais Watterson; Anakin Skywalker; Anchor; Ancient Wood; Andre of Astora; Androfluid Flag; Androgyne Flag; Androgyne Symbol; Android Logo; Androphile Flag; Androsexual Flag; Androtchi; Andy Bogard; Anesantchi; Anesigender Flag; Angel Moroni; Angel Slime/HaloSlime; Angelic Rune; Angelica Charlotte Pickles; Angeligender Flag; Angenital Flag; Anger; Angler Fish; Angler Key; Angry Bones; Angry Sun; Animaru Kajikuchitchi; Ankh; Annoyed Emoticon; Annoying Dog; Anoboy Flag; Anogender Flag; Anogirl Flag; Anononbinary Flag; Anonymous Mask; Anti-Possession Symbol; Antiboy Flag; Antidote; Antidote Herb/Snow Herb; Antigirl Flag; Antigua & Barbuda Flag; Antilon; Antoinetchi; Aoba Seragaki; Aokumotchi; AOL Instant Messenger Logo; Aperture Science Logo; Aplatonic Flag; Apogender Flag; Aporagender Flag; Apothisexual Flag; App Store Icon; Appa; Apple; Apple Bloom; Apple Juice; Apple Kid; Apple Logo; Applejack; Applejach Head; Applejack's Cutie Mark; Apresalterous Flag; Apresplatonic Flag; Apresromantic Flag; Apressexual Flag; Apricorn Box; Apricot; Apricot Luma; Aprocreationist Flag; Aqua’s Wayfinder; Aquamarine; Aquariagender Flag; Aquarius; Aquila; Aradia Megido’s Logo; Arceus; Arctic Monkeys Logo; Arekkusu Garushiatchi; Ariel; Ariel Symbol; Aries; Arigender Flag; Arizona; Arizona Cardinals Logo; Arizona Diamondbacks Logo; Arkansas; Arm Mimic; Armacham Technology Corporation Logo; Armadyl Symbol; Armenia Flag; Armin van Buuren Logo; Aromorskin/Mega Armorskin/Psychoserum; Aroflux Flag; Aromantic Flag; Aromatisse; Arospike Flag; Arrghus; Arrow; Arrow Icon; Arthur Read; Articuno; Arty Logo; AsaDoratchi; Asajj Ventress; Asexual Flag; Ash Ketchum's Cap; AshDubh; Ashigyotchi; Ashitchi; Asobutchi; Assassin's Creed Logo; Assemblage 23 Logo; Astrologian Class Icon; At Sign; AT-AT; Atari Logo; ATB Logo; Atlanta Braves Logo; Attack Skill Symbol; Audino; Aum/Om; Aurora; Aurora Symbol; Auroros; AURYN; Australian Dollar Symbol; Austria Flag; Autistic Symbol; Autobot Logo; Autosexual Flag; Autumn Leaf; Autunite; Avalugg; Avengers Logo; Aventurine; Aviator Sunglasses; Avocado; Awesome/Epic Face; Aww Emoticon; Axigender Flag; Azelf; Azerbaijan Flag; Azorius Guild Logo; Azure Potion; B; B Button; B Elder Futhark Rune; B Tile; Babatchi; Baby Luigi; Baby Mario; Baby Peach; Babymotchi; Babytchi; Back to the Future Logo; Bacon; Bad Apple; Bad Religion Logo; Badminton Racket; Bag of Bells; Bagubagutchi; Bahamas Flag; Bahrain Flag; Bakutchi; Bakyura Call Icon; Balance Badge; Balloon; Balrog; Bamboo; Banana; Banana Bunch; Banana Peel; Banana Split; Bananas; Bandos Symbol; Bangladesh Flag; Baradorutchi; Barbaracle; Barbecue Sauce; Barbie Logo; Bard Class Icon; Baron von Blubba; Barta; Bartholomew JoJo “Bart” Simpson; Baseball; Baseball Bat; Basic Badge; Basketball; Bass Clef; Bass Guitar Icon; Bassnectar Logo; Bat; Batman Beyond Logo; Batman Logo; Batman Sign; Battleship; Bauxite; Bawnd; Baymax; BB-8; BDSM Flag; Beach Ball; Beacon Badge; Beaker; Beamed Quavers; Beamos; Beanstalk; Bear Flag; Beartchi; Beast Boy; Beautiful Condition Icon; Bedtime Bear; Bee; Bee Mushroom; Beer; Beer Bottle; Beer Mug; Beet; Beetle; Belarus Flag; Belgium Flag; Bell; Belle; Belle Symbol; Bellossom; Bellsprout; Belltchi; Bellusromantic Flag; Belson Noles; Beluga; Ben 10 Logo; Bender Bending Rodriguez; Benin Flag; Benson; Benzatchi; Bera Symbol; Bereft Peak; Bergmite; Berry; Berry Game Boy Color; Berry Tree; Beryl; Best Friends Symbol; Betamon; Betty Boop; Bhat Symbol; Bi-Han/Noob Saibot/Sub-Zero; Bialterous Flag; Biamory Flag; Biathlon Logo; Bib Fortuna; Bicycle; Bidoof; Biflux Flag; Big Blue Rupee; Big Boss Gotchi; Big Gold Rupee; Big Green Rupee; Big Grin Emoticon; Big Heart; Big Key; Big McIntosh; Big McIntosh’s Cutie Mark; Big Red Rupee; Bigender Flag; Biker Helmet; Bikertchi; Bikkuritchi; Bill Cipher; Bill/Gajintchi/Sam; Billkotchi; Billotchi; Binacle; Biohazard Symbol; Bird Deviltchi; Bird Key; Birdo; BirthdAy ’15 Badge; Birthday Bear; Bisexual Flag; Bisexual Symbol; Bistre Potion; Bit; Biyomon; Black Apricorn; Black Ball; Black Bird; Black Bishop; Black Bomberman; Black Chocobo; Black Green Clash Poogie; Black Honey Poogie; Black Iron Greatshield; Black King; Black Knight; Black Light of Death; Black Mage; Black Mage Class Icon; Black Mana; Black Pikmin Head; Black Queen; Black Ranger/Zachary “Zack” Taylor; Black Ranger’s Helmet; Black Rook; Black Tiger Sex Machine Logo; Black Veil Brides Logo; Black Widow Symbol; Black Yoshi; Black/Polari Luma; Bladder; Blair’s Soul; Blake Belladonna’s Symbol; Blanche Deveraux; Blank Stare Emoticon; Blank Tile; Blank/1 Domino; Blank/2 Domino; Blank/3 Domino; Blank/4 Domino; Blank/5 Domino; Blank/6 Domino; Blank/7 Domino; Blank/8 Domino; Blank/9 Domino; Blank/Blank Domino; Blast Mask; Blastoise; Blaziken; Bleach Logo; Bleeding Buff; Blinded Buff; Blinky; Blitzcrank; Block B Logo; blocks Music Disc; Bloo; Bloober; Blood Aspect Symbol; Bloodrayne Symbol; Bloodshield; Blooper; Blossom; Blowing Wind; BLU Demoman Symbol; BLU Medic Symbol; Blue; Blue Apricorn; Blue Armos Knight; Blue Baby Bottle; Blue Baby Yoshi; Blue Ball; Blue Bird; Blue Bottle; Blue Candle; Blue Candy; Blue Cane; Blue Chaos Emerald; Blue Chocobo; Blue Christmas Light; Blue Coronet; Blue Cross; Blue Crown; Blue Crystal; Blue Crystal Switch; Blue Darknut; Blue Diamond; Blue Dummy/Pacifier/Binky; Blue Excitebike; Blue Falcon; Blue Goriya; Blue Jewel; Blue Keycard; Blue Kinstone; Blue Kirby; Blue Lamp; Blue Lantern; Blue Leever; Blue Light of Hope; Blue Luma; Blue Lynel; Blue M&M; Blue Mail; Blue Mana; Blue Masked Lovebird; Blue Octorok; Blue P-Switch; Blue Pendant Necklace; Blue Pikmin; Blue Pikmin Head; Blue Potion; Blue Puyo; Blue Ranger/Billy Cranston; Blue Ranger’s Helmet; Blue Raspberry Gummy Bear; Blue Raspberry Jolly Rancher; Blue Rhapsody; Blue Ring; Blue Rope; Blue Rubik’s Cube; Blue Rupee; Blue Sceptre; Blue Sidestepper; Blue Skull Key; Blue Snake; Blue Squid; Blue Staff; Blue Star; Blue Stray Fairy; Blue Switch Block; Blue Tektite; Blue Tiara; Blue Toad House; Blue Wizzrobe; Blue Yoshi; Blue Yoshi Egg; Blue-Gold Macaw; Blueberry Pop Tart; BMO; BMW Logo; Bo; Bob; Bob-omb; Boba Fett; Bobsleigh Logo; Boi Flag; Bokuhoshitchi; Bolin; Bolt Badge; Bomb; Bomb Flower; Bomb Icon; Bomb Sign; Bomb Soldier; Bombchu; Bomberman; Bombos Medallion; Bon Bon; Bone; Bonfire; Bonnie; Bonnie’s Eye; Boo; Boo Mushroom; Book; Book of Mudora; Book of Seals; Bookworm Green/Jade; Boomerang; Boomerang Bro.; Bordergender Flag; Borderlands Logo/Vault Symbol; Boreasexual Flag; Boss Bass; Boss Key; Boston Red Sox Logo; Bot; Botamon; Botswana Flag; Bottle; Bottle of Blood; Bottle of Pixie Dust; Bottle of Scotch; Boulder; Boulder Badge; Bow; Bow & Arrow; Bow Tie; Bowl of Ramen; Bowling Ball; Bowser; Bowser in Koopa Clown Car; Bowser Symbol; Box of Crayons; Box Slime; Boxertchi; Boxing Gloves; Bracelet; Braixen; Brammy; Brand of the Exalt; Brazil Flag; Brazil Strip; Bread; Breath Aspect Symbol; Bremen Mask; Brendan; Brick Block; Bridge; Briefcase; Brigham Young University Cougars Logo; Bright Sun; Brimstone; Broa Symbol; Broccoli; Brofist; Broken Tuni Nut; Bronzor; Brooklyn Nets Logo; Brown Ball; Brown Chocobo; Brown Kirby; Brown M&M; Brown Mushroom; Brown Ranger’s Helmet; Brown Robot; Brown Sauce; Brown Staff; Brown Yoshi; Brownish Yellow Plumbob; Bub; Bubble Buster; Bubble Man; Bubble Pulse; Bubbles; Bucket; Buckler; Bucktooth Emoticon; Buffy: The Vampire Slayer Logo; Bug Badge; Bug Type Icon; Bug-Catching Net; Bulbasaur; Bulgaria Flag; Bullet Bill; Bullet Bill Launcher; Bully’s Friend; Bumpty; Bunbuntchi; Bunkotchi; Bunnelby; Bunny; Bunny Hood; Bunny Link; Burglar/Robber/Thief; Burger King Logo; Burgertchi; Burgundy; Burkina Faso Flag; Burning Buff; Burning Flame; Burnt Meat; Bush; Busstoptchi; Butcher; Buttercup; Butterfly; Butterflytchi; Buzz Lightyear; Buzzblob; Buzzy Beetle C; C Tile; C-3PO; C-Acute; Cactus Angel; Cactus Flower/Hypnotic Pollen; Cadoboy Flag; Cadogirl Flag; Caduceus; Caduceus Round Shield; Caelgender Flag; Cain; Cake; Calcifer; Calculator; Calculator Icon; Calendar Icon; Calgary Flames Logo; California; Call of Duty Logo; Call of Duty: Black Ops II Logo; Call of Duty: Black Ops III Logo; Call of Duty: Ghosts Logo; Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 Logo; Calumon; Camera Icon; Cameroon Flag; Can of Pepsi; Can of Slurm; Canada Flag; Canadian Dollar Symbol; Cancegender Flag; Cancer; Candor Faction Symbol; Candy; Candy Cane; Candy Corn; Candy Crush Saga Icon; Candy Floss/Cotton Candy; Cane of Byrna; Cane of Somaria; Canisgender Flag; Canon Logo; Capcom Logo; Cape; Cape Feather; Capricorn; Capsuletchi; Captain America Logo; Captain America Symbol; Captain America's Shield; Captain Dexter Grif; Captain Hammer Logo; Captain Lavernius Tucker; Captain Michael J. Caboose; Captain Phasma; Captain Richard “Dick” Simmons; Captain Viridian; Captain’s Hat; CaptainSparklez; Captcha Card; Car; Carbink; Carbuncle; Carl the Cupcake; Carrie Krueger; Carrot; Cartoon Network Logo; Cascade Badge; Cassette; Cassgender Flag; Castform; Castle; Cat; Cat Bowl; Cat Mario; cat Music Disc; Catbug; Catbus/Nekobasu; CatDog; Caterpie; Cauldron; Caustic Ooze Buff; Caution Symbol; Cave Bat; Cave Spider; Cavity Tooth; Cavusgender Flag; Ceasesexual Flag; Cecil; Celebi; Celebtchi; Celestia “Celeste” Ludenberg; Celtic Knot; Censor Bar; Central African Republic Flag; Cerberus; Cerberus Logo; Ceterosexual Flag; CH; Chack; Chaco; Chad Flag; Chain Boots; Chain Chestplate; Chain Chomp; Chain Helmet; Chain Leggings; Chaka Heart; Chalcedony; Chamametchi; Champagne Bottle; Chandelitchi; Chanel Logo; Changing Season; Channeler; Chansey; Chantotchi; Chao; Chaos Rune; Chaosgender Flag; Charcoal Potion; Charitable Badge; Charitchi; Charizard; Charles; Charles Crandall Norbert “Chuckie” Finster Jr.; Charlie Brown; Charlie Scene; Charmander; Charmeleon; Checkpoint; Cheer Bear; Cheese; Cheiragender Flag; Cheri Berry; Cherish Ball; Cheritchi; Cherries; Cherrim; Cherry; Cherry Cola Gummy Bear; Cherry Gummy Bear; Cherry Jolly Rancher; Cherry Pop Tart; Chesnaught; Chespin; Chest; Chestnut; Chestnut Angel; Chevrolet Logo; Chewbacca; Chiaki Nanami’s Hairpin; Chibi Moon Symbol; Chibipatchi; Chibomon; Chica; Chicago Bulls Logo; Chick; Chicken; Chicken Kabob; Chicken Leg; Chief Verdigris; Chieri Sono’s Kirara; Chile Flag; Chill; Chilli Pepper; Chilly Pepper; Chimchar; ChimneySwift11; China Flag; Chip; chirp Music Disc; Chitchi; Chobitamatchi; Chocolate; Chocolate Bar; Chocolate Chip Pop Tart; Chocolate Fudge Pop Tart; ChoHimetchi; Choice & Accountabilty Ribbon; ChoMametchi; Chomper; ChooChoosGaming; Choose the Right/CTR Logo; Choribotchi; Chousakutchi; Choushutchi; Chowder; Christopher Cross “Chris” Griffin; Chrysoprase; Chubby Angel; Chubby Deviltchi; Chuchutchi; Chukatchi; Ciaotchi; Cigarette; Cincinnati Museum Center; Cinderella; Cinderella Symbol; CinnamonToastKen Logo; Circle; Circle Button; Circle Cookie; Citrine; City Crest; Clarence Wendell; Classic Santaclautchi; Classictchi; Clauncher; Claus; Clawitzer; Clear;; Clear/Moon; Clefairy; Clever Condition Icon; Cliff Badge; Clione Deviltchi; Clock; Clock Icon; Cloud; Clover; Club; Clyde; Coal Badge; Coal Ore; Cobalt Drill; Cobble Badge; Cobra Starship Logo; Cobrat; Coca-Cola Logo; Cockatiel; Cocktail; Coco; Coconut; Coconut Cannon; Cody Hida’s Digivice; Coffee; Coffretchi; Coigender Flag; Coin; Coke; Cola Gummy Bear; Cole; Colombia Flag; Colombo; Colon; Colonel Sarge; Colorado; Colourless Energy; Combee; Combusken; Comet; Comma; Commander Badge; Commoboy Flag; Commodore 64 Logo; Commogirl Flag; Companion Cube; Compass; Compass Icon; Computer; Conch Horn; Confederate Flag; Connecticut; Connie Maheswaran; Constitution Skill Symbol; Converse Shoe; Cooked Chicken; Cooked Fish; Cookie; Cookie Monster; Cooking Mama; Cool Condition Icon; Cool Drink; Coral; Coral Triangle; Coral-Eye Badge; Core Cannon; Corn; Corndog; Corrupt Bunny; Cosmic Moon Brooch; Cosmic Rune; Côte d’Ivoire Flag; Cottonee; Count Dooku; Couple’s Mask; Courage the Cowardly Dog; Cow; Cowboy Hat; Crab Claw; Crabby; Cracker; Crackertchi; Cranberry & Cherry Sorbet; Creep; Creeper; Cresselia; Crimson Potion; Crippled Buff; Crisis Moon Compact; Crobat; Crona’s Soul; Crono; Crop Icon; Cross; Cross of St. Peter; Crotchet; Cryaotic; Crying Emoticon; Cryptogender Flag; Crystagender Flag; Crystal; Crystal Ball; Crystaltchi; CTR Shield; Cuba Flag; Cube; Cubone; Cucco; Cuccodex; Cucumber; Cue Ball; Cup of Coffee; Cupcake; Cupiosexual Flag;; Currypantchi; Customer Service Expert Badge; Cut Man; Cute Condition Icon; Cyan Squid; Cyberman; Cyberman Helmet; Cyndaquil; Cynthia; Czech Republic Flag D; D Logo; D Elder Futhark Rune; D Tile; Da Kurlzz; Daffy Duck; Daisy; Daisy Duck; Daiyatchi; Dale; Dalecarlian Horse; Dalek; Damage Dealer Icon; Dan; Dandelion Game Boy Color; Dango Obatchi; Danish Krone Symbol; Danny; Danny Phantom Logo; Daredevil Logo; Dark Blue Cat Eye; Dark Chao; Dark Chocolate; Dark Element; Dark Knight Class Icon; Dark Magician Girl; Dark Side of the Moon Logo; Dark Type Icon; Dark Type Symbol; Darkness Energy; Darth Maul; Darth Maul’s Lightsaber; Darth Vader; Darts; Darumatchi; Darwin Raglan Caspian Ahab Poseidon Nicodemius Watterson III; Dash Berlin Logo; Dauntless Faction Symbol; Dave Strider's Logo; Davesprite; Davis Motoyima’s Digivice; Dawg; Dawn Stone; Dazzlitchi; DC Universe Logo; Dead Child; Dead Kennedys Logo; Deadlox; Deadman Wonderland Prison Logo; deadmau5 Mask; Deadpool Logo; Deadshot Daiquiri Perk; Death Machine Power-up; Death Star; Death the Kid’s Soul; Deathly Hallows Symbol; Debatchi; Debian Logo; Debutchi; Decepticon Symbol; Decotchi; Dedenne; Defense of the Ancients Icon; Defqon.1 Logo; Dekatama Protagonist; Deku Mask; Deku Nut; Deku Shield; Deku Stick; Delaware; DeLorean Logo; Delphigender Flag; Delphox; Demialterous Flag; Demibisexual Flag; Demiboy Flag; Demifluid Flag; Demiflux Flag; Demigenderqueer Flag; Demigirl Flag; Demihomosexual Flag; DemiMeramon; Deminonbinary Flag; Demipansexual Flag; Demipolysexual Flag; Demiromantic Flag; Demisemihemidemisemiquaver; Demisemiquaver; Demisexual Flag; Demon Eye; Demondrug/Mega Demondrug/Hot Drink; Denmark Flag; Denver Broncos Logo; Depagatchi; Derpy Hooves; Derpy Hooves’ Cutie Mark; Desinoromantic Flag; Destiny Logo; Destiny’s Embrace; DeviantArt Logo; Devil Mametchi; Devil Oyajitchi; Devil Zuccitchi; Deviltchi; Dexter; Dialga; Diamond; Diamond Axe; Diamond Boots; Diamond Chestplate; Diamond Helmet; Diamond Leggings; Diamond Ore; Diamond Pickaxe; Diamond Ring; Diamond Shovel; Diamond Steve; Diamond Sword; Diavlo; Dig Dug; Digg Logo; Diggersby; Digivice; Diglett; Din; Diopside; Dipp; Dipsy; Dirk Strider’s Logo; Disabled Symbol; Disguise Pen; Disgust; Disney Cruise Line Logo; Disney Logo; Ditto; Dive Ball; Divination Skill Symbol; Divine Nature Ribbon; Divine Rose; Division Sign; DJ PON3/Vinyl Scratch; DJ PON3/Vinyl Scratch’s Cutie Mark; Djibouti Flag; DNAtchi; Doctor Albert W. Wily; Doctor Thomas Light; Doctor Violet; Doctor Who Logo; Doctor Whooves’ Cutie Mark; Dodge Ram Logo; Doe; Dog; Dog Bowl; Doge; Dogutchi; Dollar Sign; DOLLARS Logo; Dolphin; Dome Fossil; Domgender Feminine Flag; Domgender Masculine Flag; Domgender Nonbinary Flag; Dominican Republic Flag; Domino’s Pizza Logo; Domo; Don Gero’s Mask; Donald Duck; Donatello; Donut; Doom Aspect Symbol; Doopliss; Dora Winifred “D.W.” Read; Dorotchi; Dorothy Zbornak; Dory; Dotetchi; Doublade; Double Cherry; Double Chest; Double Points Power-up; Double Scoop Cone; Double Tap II Root Beer Perk; Double Tap Root Beer Perk; Doug; Down Arrow; Downloaded Icon; DP Snamis; Dr. Mario; Dracky; Draenei Class Symbol; Dragalge; Dragon Coin; Dragon Energy; Dragon Radar; Dragon Type Icon; DragonBall Z Logo; Dragonite; Dragoon Class Icon; Drake; Drakefluid Flag; DrakSlime; Draw Something Logo; Dreamitchi; Drifloon; Drink Me Potion; Drippy; Drone Dalek; Drugged Meat/Cold Meat; Drum; Drums Icon; Dry Bones; Dryad; Duck; Ducklett; Ducky; Dumbbell; Dumbo; Dummy; Duosion; Duraboy Flag; Duragirl Flag; Duranonbinary Flag; Dusk Ball; Dustbin Beaver the Moptop Tweenybop; Dynamo Badge E; E Elder Futhark Rune; E Logo; E Tile; E4 Logo; E-Acute; E-Circumflex; E-Macron; E-Tank; E-Umlaut; Earl of Lemongrab; Earth; Earth Badge; Earth Element; Earth Element Symbol; Earth Rune; Earth Symbol; Earthbender Symbol; Eat Me Cake; Echo Screen; Echoing Howl; Éclair; Ecto the Fancy Banshee; Ectogender Flag; Ed; Edd/Double D; Eddy; Edible Ghost; Eduardo; Eek Emoticon; Eevee; Eeyore; Eevee Head; Egg; Egg (Tamago) Sushi; Eggplant; Eggplant Wizard; Egoboy Flag; Egogender Flag; Egogirl Flag; Egononbinary Flag; Egypt Flag; Eiyuutchi; Electric Cherry Perk; Electric Type Icon; Electric Type Symbol; Electronic Arts Logo; Elements of Harmony; Elixir; Elmo; Elsa the Snow Queen of Arendelle; Ember Seed; Emerald; Emerald Ring; Emolga; Empoleon; Empty Heart; Ender Pearl; Enderman; Endoboy Flag; Endogirl Flag; Energy Sword; England Flag; Enlightened Logo; Envy; Equius Zahhak’s Logo; Eraser; Eridan Ampora’s Logo; Erinite; Ermac; Err; Erudite Faction Symbol; Espeon; Espeon Head; Espigender Flag; Estonia Flag; Eternal Dalek; Eternal Moon Article; Eternal Spirit; Ethan; Ether; Ether Medallion; Etsy Logo; Euro Sign; Evanescence Logo; Eve; EVE Hypo; Evenstar; Exclamation Mark; Existiboy Flag; Existigirl Flag; Existinonbinary Flag; Exit Mouse; Exit Sign; Expecgender Flag; Eye Drops; Eye of Horus; Eye of Providence; Eye of Sauron; Eyegore; Ezio Auditore da Firenze F; F Elder Futhark Rune; F Tile; F-Zero Logo; f(x) Logo; Face Key; Face With Surgical Mask; Face With Tears Of Joy; Facebook Icon; Fairy; Fairy Badge; Fairy Energy; Fairy Harp; Fairy Ocarina; Fairy Slingshot; Fairy Tail Guild Mark; Fairy Type Icon; Faith Ribbon; Falling In Reverse Logo; Falling Star; Fancy Llama; Fang Slime/Wild Slime; Fantastic Dizzy; Fantastic Four Logo; far Music Disc; Faroe Islands Flag; Farore; Fast Ball; Fast Forward Button; Fat Fairy; Fat Flag; Fawn; Fear; Feather; Feather Badge; Feed Icon; Feferi Peixes’ Logo; Feldspar; Felisgender Flag; Felvine; Female Eclectus Parrot; Female Symbol; Female Toilet Sign; Femgender Flag; Fen Badge; Fennekin; Ferrari Logo; Fertile Soil; Fever; Fiat Logo; Fictosexual Flag; Fierce Deity’s Mask; FIFA World Cup Trophy; Fighter; Fighter’s Sword; Fighting Energy; Fighting Type Icon; Figure Skating Logo; File Not Found Icon; Fill With Color Icon; Finland Flag; Finn; Finn the Human; Finsexual Flag; Fire Arrow; Fire Bro.; Fire Element; Fire Element Symbol; Fire Energy; Fire Flower; Fire Herb/Hot Pepper; Fire Medallion; Fire Rod; Fire Rune; Fire Sale Power-up; Fire Shield; Fire Stone; Fire Stingray; Fire Type Icon; Fireball; Firebender Symbol; Firecracker Burst’s Cutie Mark; Fireflies Logo; Firegender Flag; Firemaking Skill Symbol; Firework; First Aid Kit; Fish; Fishbone; Fisting Flag; Fix-it Felix Jr.; Fixed Tuni Nut; Fizzy Pop’s Cutie Mark; Flabebe; Flame; Flame Princess; Flamingo; Flan; Flandre Scarlet; Flappy Bird; Flareon Head; Flask; FLCL Logo; Fletchling; Fleur-de-lis; Flip Flop; Flippers; Floppy Disk; Florette; Florges; Florida; Flosstradamus Logo; Flounder; Flower; Flower Cookie; Flowertchi; Flowey; Fluidflux Flag; Fluorite; Flurry; Flute; Flute Boy; Fluttershy; Fluttershy's Cutie Mark; Fly; Fly Guy; Flying ? Block; Flying Rooster; Flying Type Icon; Fog Badge; Foie; Foongus; Football Boot; Football/Soccer Ball; Ford Logo; Foreman Pig; Forest Badge; Forest Medallion; Fork; Fortress; Fortune Teller; Fossil; Four Leaf Clover; Four Sword; Foxy; France Flag; Frankenstein’s Monster/The Creation; Frappuccino; Fraysexual Flag; Freddy Fazbear; Freelancer Agent New York/Foxtrot 12/York; Freelancer Agent North Dakota; Freelancer Agent South Dakota; Freelancer Agent Texas/Artificial Intelligence Program Beta/Allison/Tex; Freelancer Agent Utah; Freelancer Agent Washington/Recovery One/Prisoner 619-B/David/Wash; Freelancer Agent Wyoming/Reginald; Freeze Badge; French Fries; Fried Egg; Fried Rice; Friend Ball; Friend Bear; Fries; Frisk; Froakie; Frog; Frog Mario; Frog Suit; Frogadier; Frogger; Frozen Buff; Frozen Logo; Fruit Drink; Fruity Bubblegum Gummy Bear; Fryguy; Fudgesical; Fujio; Full Heart; Full Heart Container; Full Magic Container; Full Moon Cello; Full Stop/Period; Fullmetal Alchemist Logo; Fume-shroom; Fun Ghoul Gun; Funhaus Logo; Funny Man; Funshine Bear; Furi; Furikotchi; Futabatchi; Fuzzy; Fygar G; G Elder Futhark Rune; G Tile; G0y Flag; Gabon Flag; Gabumon; Gaikotchi; Galactic Empire Logo; Gale Seed; Gambia Flag; Game Boy; Game Center Icon; GameCube Controller; GameCube Logo; Gamzee Makara’s Logo; Gandalf the Grey; Gandalf the Grey’s Hat; Gankotchi; Ganon; Gardevoir; Garnet; Garnet Ring; Garo’s Mask; Garrison/Stationary Guard Crest; Gasha Berry; Gasha Seed; Gastly; Gatomon; Gatten Abukotchi; Gay Flag; Gears of War Logo; Gel; Gem Slime/Gold Slime/MinerSlime; Gemigender Flag; Gemini; Gender Binary Flag; Gender Neutral Flag; Gender Non-Binary Flag; Genderblank Flag; Genderdormant Flag; Gendereaux Flag; Genderfluid Flag; Genderflux Flag; Genderfuck Pride Flag; Genderfuzz Flag; Gendermaverick Flag; Gendernegative Flag; Genderpositive Flag; Genderpunk Flag; Genderqueer Flag; Genderqueer Symbol; Genderstrange Flag; Gendervague Flag; Gendervoid Flag; Gendfleur Flag; General Grievous; Genesect; Gengar; Genie’s Lamp; Genjin Galtchi; Genjintchi; Geno; George; Georgia; Georgia Flag; Germany; Germany Flag; Getatchi; Ghana Flag; Ghast; Ghast Tear; Ghastly Doll; Ghost; Ghost Deviltchi; Ghost House; Ghost Jr; Ghost Shroom; Ghost Type Icon; Ghost's Eyes; Ghostbusters Logo; Giant Bat; Giant’s Mask; Gibdo; Gibdo’s Mask; Gift of Time; Giggles; Ginger; Gingerbread House; Ginjirotchi; Ginjirotchi Angel; Giorgio Armani Logo; Giraffey; Girl Deviltchi; Glaceon Head; Glacier Badge; Glass Dagger; Glass of Apple Juice; Glass of Orange Juice; Glass of Red Wine; Glass of White Wine; Glasstchi; Gloom; Glowstone Dust; Gmail Icon; Gnarled Key; Gnome; Goby; Godzilla; Goggles; Goku; Golbat; Gold; Gold Axe; Gold Ball & Chain Trooper; Gold Coronet; Gold Crown; Gold Ingot; Gold Kinstone; Gold Medal; Gold Nugget; Gold Ore; Gold Pickaxe; Gold Rupee; Gold Shovel; Gold Sword; Golden Apple; Golden Bonnie; Golden Boots; Golden Carp; Golden Chestplate; Golden Chocobo; Golden Delicious Apple; Golden Fox; Golden Freddy; Golden Harvest/Carrot Top; Golden Helmet; Golden Leggings; Golden Llama; Golden Mushroom; Golden Potion; Golden Scarab; Golden Snitch; Golden Steve; Golden Sword; Golden Tooth; Golem; Golf Ball; Golgari Swarm Logo; Goma Dango; Gomamon; Gomez; Good Luck Bear; Good Works Ribbon; Goodra; Google Chrome Logo; Google Hangouts Icon; Google Logo; Google+ Icon; Goomba; Goomba in Goomba’s Shoe; Goomba’s Shoe; Goomy; Goonie; Goro; Gorogorotchi; Goron Elder; Goron Mask; Goron Vase; Goron's Ruby; Goronade; Gosutchi; Gotchi King; Gotchi Queen; Gothita; Gourmetchi; Gozarutchi; Graceful Dahlia; Gracidea Flower; Graduation Cap; Grand Theft Auto V Logo; Granny Smith Apple; Grape Gummy Bear; Grape Jolly Rancher; Grapefruit; Grapes; Grass; Grass Crest Shield; Grass Energy; Grass TM; Grass Type Icon; Gravestone; Graveyard Key; Great Ball; Great Fairy; Great Fairy’s Mask; Greed; Greedo; Green Apricorn; Green Baby Yoshi; Green Ball; Green Berry; Green Bird; Green Bottle; Green Cane; Green Cat Eye; Green Chaos Emerald; Green Cheep Cheep; Green Chocobo; Green Christmas Light; Green Cockatiel; Green Diamond; Green Egg Block; Green Grapes; Green Kinstone; Green Kirby; Green Lantern Logo; Green Light of Willpower; Green Luma; Green M&M; Green Mail; Green Mana; Green Panther; Green Pepper; Green Plumbob; Green Potion; Green Puyo; Green Ranger/Tommy Oliver; Green Ranger’s Helmet; Green Requiem; Green Robot; Green Rubik’s Cube; Green Rupee; Green Stray Fairy; Green Switch Block; Green Tea Sherbet; Green Tiara; Green Yoshi Egg; Green-Winged Macaw; Greenland Flag; Greninja; Grey Cloud; Grey P-Switch; Grey Robot; Grey-Aromantic Flag; Grey-Asexual Flag; Greyalterous Flag; Greygender Flag; Greymon; Greyplatonic Flag; Greyromantic Flag; Grief Seed; Grinder; Grippatchi; Groot; Grotle; Ground Type Icon; Grovyle; Grumpy Bear; Grumpy Cat; Grundle; Grunt/Unggoy; Gryffindor Banner; Gryffindor Shield; Guardian Icon; Guinea Bissau Flag; Guinea Flag; Guinness Symbol; Guitar; Guitar Icon; Gulasantchi; Gumball Machine; Gumball Tristopher Watterson; Guriguritchi; Gusty; Guthix Symbol; Guy Fawkes Mask; Guy-Manuel’s Mask; Gyaraboy Flag; Gyarados; Gyaragender Flag; Gyaragirl Flag; Gynefluid Flag; Gynephile Flag; Gynesexual Flag; Gypsytchi; Gyroid H; H Tile; Haban Berry; Hail Hydra Logo; Haiti Flag; Half Heart; Half-Life Logo; Hallowed Breastplate; Hallowed Greaves; Hallowed Helmet; Halo Logo; Hamburger; Hammer; Hammer Bro.; Hammer Bro.'s Hammer; Hammer Suit; Hamsa; Han Solo; Hanagatatchi; Hanami Dango; Hanatarezoutchi; Hanatchi; Hand Cursor; Hanekotchi; Haneotchi; Hanger; Hanitchi; Hanyu Furude; Hanzo Hasahi/Scorpion; Happy; Happy Berry Logo; Happy Emoticon; Happy Face; Happy Meal; Hardhat Beetle; Hariutchi; Harlequin Rune; Harry Potter Logo; Harumichitchi; Harutchi; Hashitamatchi; Hashizoutchi; Hat Santaclautchi; Hatenatchi; Hatokamitchi; Hatsune Miku; Hatsune Miku Logo; Hatugatchi; Haunter; Hawaii; Hawaikotchi; Hawainotchi; Hawkeye Symbol; Hawlucha; Head; Headdress; Headphones; Heal Ball; Healer Icon; Healslime; Heart; Heart Aspect Symbol; Heart Cookie; Heart of the Ocean; Heart Wand; Heartchi; Hearthstone; Hearthstone: Heroes of Warcraft Logo; Heartless Logo; Heat Badge; Heats Flamesman; Heavy D!; Heimerdinger; Heliotrope/Bloodstone; Helix Fossil; Hello Kitty Logo; Helmetchi; Hemiboy Flag; Hemigirl Flag; Hemidemisemiquaver; Heminonbinary Flag; Henry’s Book; Herb/Ivy; Herbal Armor Buff; Herbal Healing Buff; Herblore Skill Symbol; Hermaphrodite Flag; Hero Chao; Herobrine; Hetalia Logo; Heteroflexible Flag; Hexagon; Hi Hi Puffy Ami Yumi Logo; Hi-Potion; Hibiscus; Hidatchi; High Battery Level; Hikotchi; High-Five Ghost; Hill; Himespetchi; Hinatchi; Hinotamatchi; Hiratchi; Hitodetchi; Hitomi Shizuki; Hive Badge; Hodenge; Hogwarts Crest; Hohotchi; Hollow Mask; Holy Water; Homer Jay Simpson; HomeStuck Logo; Homoalterous Flag; Homoflexible Flag; Homosexual (But Not Homoromantic) Flag; Homura Akemi; Homura Akemi’s Soul Gem; Honda Logo; Honey; Honeydew; Honeydew’s Logo; Honeytchi; Hong Kong Dollar Symbol; Hoodz; Hookshot; Hoopster; Hope Aspect Symbol; Hoppetchi; Horde Insignia; Horn of Gabriel; Horoboy Flag; Horogirl Flag; Horononbinary Flag; Horoyotchi; Horrified Debuff; Hoshitchi; Hot Dog; Hot Dog with Barbecue Sauce; Hot Dog with Brown Sauce; Hot Dog with Mustard; Hot Dog with Tomato Sauce; Hotdog; HotTeatchi; Hourglass Cursor; House Arryn of the Eyrie Sigil; House Barathron of Storm’s End Sigil; House Dimir Logo; House Frey of the Crossing Sigil; House Greyjoy of Pyke Sigil; House Lannister of Casterly Rock Sigil; House Nymerous Martell of Sunspear Sigil; House Stark of Winterfell Sigil; House Targaryen Sigil; House Tully of Riverrun Sigil; House Tyrell of Highgarden Sigil; Howie; Hufflepuff Banner; Hufflepuff Shield; Hullaballoon; Humba the Banana; Hungary Flag; Hungry Buff; Hunter of Hunter’s Covenant Symbol; Hunter Skill Symbol; Hunter Symbol; HuskyMUDKIPZ; Hyacinth; Hyacinth Macaw; Hylian Shield; Hyottokotchi; Hyurutchi I; I Elder Futhark Rune; Ï Elder Futhark Rune; I Tetrimino; I Tile; I.G.G.Y. the Pixel-Munching Snaffler; I’ve Seen It Badge; I-Acute; I-Circumflex; I-Macron; I-Umlaut; Ibatchi; Ice; Ice Arrow; Ice Blue Game Boy Color; Ice Cream; Ice Cream Cone; Ice Flower; Ice Hockey Logo; Ice Rod; Ice Skate; Ice Type Icon; Ice Type Symbol; Iceberg Badge; Iceland Flag; Ichigo; Ichigotchi; Icicle Badge; Idaho; Idemoromantic Flag; Igglybuff; Ignignokt; iHasCupquake; IKEA Logo; Illinois; Illuminated Buff; Imgur Icon; Immune to Gases Buff; Immunizer Power/Juice/Mega Juice; Imotchi; Impediogender Flag; Impossible Triangle; India Flag; Indian Red; Indiana; Indicolite; Indigo Bottle; Indigo Cane; Indigo Diamond; Indigo Light of Compassion; Indigo Potion; Individual Worth Ribbon; Indonesia Flag; Infected Mushroom; Infernape; Infinite Logo; Infinite Symbol; IngenDer Flag; Ingward; Inky; Insect Badge; Insomniac Logo; Insta-Kill Power-up; Instagram Logo; Integrity Ribbon; Intergender Flag; Intersex Flag; Intersex Flag; Intersex Symbol; InuYasha Logo; Inverted Question Mark; Invisible Buff; Iolite; Iowa; iPhone; iPod Touch; Irken Logo; Iron Axe; Iron Boots; Iron Chestplate; Iron Helmet; Iron Ingot; Iron Leggings; Iron Man Symbol; Iron Ore; Iron Pickaxe; Iron Pot; Iron Shovel; Iron Sword; Isaac; Israel Flag; Italy Flag; Itatchi; iTunes Icon; Ivory; Ivory Potion; Ivysaur; Iwatchi; Izzet League Logo J; J Tile; J.R.R. Tolkien Logo; J-Dog; Jack; Jack O’Lantern; Jack Skellington; Jack Ü Logo; Jackass Logo; jacksepticeye Logo; Jade; Jade Harley's Logo; Jade Potion; Jade Star Badge; Jake English’s Logo; Jake the Dog; Jamaica Flag; James; James Bond Logo; James Pond; Jane Crocker’s Logo; Jango Fett; Japan Flag; Jar Jar Binks; Jar of Nutella; Jar/Pot; Jasmine; Jasmine Symbol; Jason Voorhees’ Mask; Jasper; Jaspersprite; Jaune Arc’s Symbol; Jay; Jayne Cobb’s Hat; Jeff; Jeff Randell; Jellyfish; Jerry; Jess; Jessie; Jet; Jet Badge; Jet Star Gun; Jewelboxtchi; Jeweltchi; Jidoutchi; Jigglypuff; Jigsaw Piece; Jiji; Jimmy; Jinn/Sylphid; Jinx; Jirachi; JLS Logo; John Deere Logo; John Egbert’s Logo; Johnny 3 Tears; Johnny Bravo; Johnny Cage; Jolteon Head; Joltik; Jon; Jonny 2X4; Jonquil; Jordan Flag; Journal 3 Logo; Joy; Judas; Juggernog Perk; Juice; Jumping Piranha Plant; Jumping Pumpkin Plant; June; Jungle; Jungle King; Junior Clown Car; Junko Enoshima’s Phone; Jupiter; Jurassic Park Logo; jw.org Logo; Jynx K; K Elder Futhark Rune; K Tile; K.K. Slider; K-9; Kabotchi; Kadabra; Kafei’s Mask; Kagamine Rin; Kai; Kaitchi; Kajiguchi Abukotchi; Kakuna; Kakutchi; Kaleidomoon Scope; Kaleidoscope; Kamaro’s Mask; Kamek; Kanata Shinonome’s Kirara; Kanaya Maryam’s Logo; Kandi Patterns Logo; Kano; Kanra Call Icon; Kansas; Karatchi; Kari Kamiya’s Digivice; Karkas Vantas’ Logo; Katamari; Katara; Katsuma; Kazuichi Soda; Keaton’s Mask; Kebia Berry; Kee Berry; Keese; Keiichi Maebara; Keldeo; Kentucky; Kerbal Space Program Logo; Kermit the Frog; Kettle; Kettledrum; Kevin; Key; Key Icon; Keyboard Icon; Keyhole; Khaki; Khorne Symbol; Kid Blue; Kidney; Kikwi; Kilalatchi; Kinakomotchi; Kinbo Koi; Kindred; King; King Boo; King Dedede; King Llama; King of All Cosmos; King Slime; King Worm; Kingdom Hearts Logo; Kingdom Key; Kingender Flag; Kingyotchi; Kinky People In Vanilla Relationships Flag; Kinotchi; Kip Symbol; Kirby; Kirby on Warp Star; Kirin Tor Logo; Kirk, Knight of Thorns; Kirlia; KISS Logo; Kiwi Cupcake; Kiwi Fruit; Kiwi Game Boy Color; Kiyotaka “Taka” Ishimaru; Klefki; Klingon Logo; Knife; Knife Party Logo; Knight Lautrec of Carim; Knight Shield; Knowledge Ribbon; Knuckle Badge; Knuckleduster; Knuckles the Echidna; Knuckles the Echidna Icon; Kobra Kid Gun; Kodak Logo; Kodama; Kokiri Sword; Kokiri's Emerald; Kolechia Seal; Konami Logo; Konohagakure Symbol; Koopa Clown Car; Koopa Shell; Koopa Troopa; Korean Won Symbol; Korilakkuma; Korra; Kracko; Kracko's Eye; Krieg; Kuai Liang/Sub-Zero; Kuchikotchi; Kuchiotchi; Kunai; Kunoitchi; Kuriboh; Kuribotchi; Kuritchi; Kuro; Kurokotchi; KuroMametchi; KuroTsubutchi; Kushipatchi; Kutchitamatchi; Kuwait Flag; Kylo Ren; Kylo Ren’s Lightsaber; Kyoko Sakura; Kyoko Sakura’s Soul Gem L; L for Lee; L Lawliet’s Logo; L Tetrimino; L Tile; La; Laa-Laa; Labradorite; Lady GooGoo the Glitzy BooHoo; Lady Luck; Lady Rainicorn; Ladybird/Ladybug; Lakitu; Lala; Lamp; Lance “Scorpion” Bean; Lando Calrissian; Lapis Lazuli; Large Invader; Large Planchette; Large Totoro; Larry Koopa; Latin Cross; Latvia Flag; Lava Bucket; Lava Juice; Lava Soup; Lavender; Law Rune; LDShadowLady; Leaf; Leaf Stone; Leafeon Head; Leafmon; Leaftchi; League of Legends Icon; League of Nations Logo; Leather Boots; Leather Cap; Leather Flag; Leather Girl Flag; Leather Pants; Leather Tunic; Lebanon Flag; Lee Kanker; Leek; Left Arrow; Left Parenthesis; Left Shark; Legend Badge; Lego Logo; Lemon; Lemon Gummy Bear; Lemon Hearts’ Cutie Mark; Lemon Lime Sorbet; Lemon Sherbet; Lemon Slice; Lens of Truth; Leo; Leogender Flag; Leon Kuwata; Leonardo; Lepidolite; Leprechaun; Leprechaun Hat; Lesbian Flag; Lethargender Flag; Letter; Level Ball; Levitating Buff; LGBT Flag; Libra; Libragender Flag; Libya Flag; Lickitung; Lie Ren’s Symbol; Life Aspect Symbol; Life Energy; Life Mushroom; Life Shroom; Light Arrow; Light Aspect Symbol; Light Blue Cat Eye; Light Blue Yoshi; Light Element; Light Medallion; Lightbulb; Lightning Bolt; Lightning Cross; Lightning Energy; Lightning Potion; Like Icon; Like Like; Lilac; Lime; Lime Cake; Lime Green Squid; Lime Gummy Bear; Lime Slice; Limnosexual Flag; Linda; Link; Lionheart; Lips; Lipstick; Lipstick Lesbian Flag; Lithuania Flag; Little C.H.A.D.; Little Miss Tiny; Litwick; Liu Kang; Lizard; Llama; Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon; Location Marker; Lock; Loki’s Helmet; Lollipop; Lollipop Chainsaw Logo; Lolo; Lopez the Heavy; Lopmon; LordMinion777 Logo; Los Angeles Dodgers Logo; Los Angeles Lakers Logo; Lotad; Louisiana; Louisville Cardinals Logo; Love; Love Ball; Love-a-Lot Bear; Lovebird; Lovegender Flag; Lovelitchi; Low Battery Level; Lucario; Lucas; Lucca; Ludoboy Flag; Ludogirl Flag; Ludononbinary Flag; Ludwig von Koopa; Luge Logo; Luigi; Luigi’s Hat; Luke Skywalker; Luke Triton; Lumina/Wisp; Lumpy Space Princess; Luna; Lunar: The Silver Star Logo; Lunar Eclipse; Lure Ball; Lust; Luvli; Luxembourg Flag; Luxury Ball; Lyra Heartstrings; Lysandre M; M Elder Futhark Rune; M Logo; M Tile; M. Bison; Macaroon; Macaw; Mace Windu; Machinist Class Icon; Mad Pride Flag; Madagascar Flag; Madeon Logo; Madoka Kaname; Madoka Kaname’s Soul Gem; Magdalene; Mage Class Symbol; Mage’s Staff; Magenta Potion; Magenta Yoshi; Magiboy Flag; Magic: The Gathering Card; Magic Ball; Magic Bean; Magic Boomerang; Magic Cape; Magic Element Symbol; Magic Hammer; Magic Mirror; Magic Potion; Magic Powder; Magic Rod; Magic Skill Symbol; Magical Boomerang; Magical Shield; Magicite; Magifluid Flag; Magigirl Flag; Magikarp; Maginonbinary Flag; Maiden’s Kiss; Maidtchi; Mail Icon; Maine; Major League Baseball Logo; Majora's Mask; Majorika; Makiko/Madeleine Kirie Dotchine; Mako; Makoto Yokomizo’s Kirara; Maku Tree Leaf; Malachite; Maldives Flag; Male Eclectus Parrot; Male Symbol; Male Toilet Sign; Mali Flag; mall Music Disc; Malloty Knox Logo; Mamegoma; Mamekotchi; Mameotchi; Mameshiba; Mametchi; Mami Tomoe; Mami Tomoe’s Soul Gem; Manalterous Flag; Manaphy; Mangle; Mango Sorbet; Manipura Symbol; Map; Maple; Maps Icon; Marcy; Mareep; Marie Kanker; Marie Mjolnir’s Eye Patch; MarineAngemon; Maringender Flag; Mario; Mario in Goomba’s Shoe; Mario’s Hat; Mark of Cain; Marked for Sacrifice Buff; Markiplier Logo; Marle; Marny; Maroon Ball; Marotchi; Marowak; Mars; Marsh Badge; Marshtomp; Martini Glass; Marvin the Martian; Maryland; Masexual Flag; Mask of Scents; Mask of Truth; Masked Lovebird; Masktchi; Massachusetts; Master Ball; Master Belch; Master Chief; Master Higgins; Master Shake; Master Sword; Mattaritchi; Mauritania Flag; Mauritius Flag; Maverique Flag; Max Revive; Maxwell; May; May Kanker; McDonald’s Logo; Me Gusta Face; Meat; Meat Boy; Medical Officer Super Private First Class Frank DuFresne/Doc; Medicine of Life; Medicine of Life & Magic; Medicine of Magic; Medium Battery Level; Medium Totoro; Mega Aerodactyl; Mega Alakazam; Mega Blastoise; Mega Charizard X; Mega Charizard Y; Mega Gengar; Mega Gyarados; Mega Haunter; Mega Lucario; Mega Man; Mega Mewtwo X; Mega Mewtwo Y; Mega Mushroom; Mega Scizor; Mega Stone; Mega Venusaur; Megatchi; mellohi Music Disc; Meloetta; Melon; Memeotchi; Memeputchi; Memetchi; Memorial Stripes Poogie; Meow; Mercury; Mesprit; Messages Icon; Metal Chocobo; Metal Energy; Metal King Slime; Metal Slime; MetalGreymon; Metapod; Metaromantic Flag; Metool; Metroid; Mew; Mew Berry; Mew Ichigo; Mew Lettuce; Mew Pudding; Mew Ringo; Mewtwo; MGMT Logo; Miami Heat Logo; Miami Hurricanes Logo; Michael “Mike” Wazowski; Michelangelo; Michigan; Micro-Goomba; Microphone; Midnight Blue Game Boy Color; Mikazukitchi; Miles “Tails” Prower; Miles “Tails” Prower Icon; Military Police Brigade Crest; Military/Uniform Flag; Milk Bucket; Milk Chocolate; Millennium Eye; Millennium Falcon; Millennium Necklace; Millennium Puzzle; Millennium Ring; Millennium Rod; Mima; MimeSlime; Mimifuwatchi; Mimitchi; Mimiyoritchi; Mimori Kishida’s Kirara; Mind Aspect Symbol; Mind Badge; Mind Vision Buff; Mine Badge; Minecraft Logo; Mineral Badge; Mini Mushroom; Mini-Moldorm; Mining Skill Symbol; Mink; Minnesota; Minotchi; Minsexual Flag; Mion Sonozaki; Mirror Shield; Miso; Mississippi; Missouri; Mitarashi Dango; Mitsubishi Logo; Mitt; Mizutamatchi; Mjölnir; Mobile Sprout; Mobile/Cellular Phone; Moblin; Mocha; Mockingjay Pin; Mohitamatchi; Mojo Jojo; Moltres; Monapatchi; Mondo Owada; Money Bag; Monferno; Monk; Monk Class Icon; Monoeye; Monofluid; Monokuma; Monomate; Monomi/Usami; Monster Assault Logo; Monster Heavy Metal Logo; Monster High Logo; Monster Khaos Logo; Monster Lo-Carb Logo; Monster Logo; Monster MIXXD Logo; Monster Ripper Logo; Monsters, Inc. 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Okay. Logo; Oklahoma; Olaf; Old Man; Olivenite; Olivine; Olympia; Olympics Logo; Om Nom; Omanyte; Omegle Logo; Omnigender Flag; Omnisexual Flag; Omnitrix; Omututchi; One Direction Logo; One Ring; One-Eyed Minion; Onigiri; Onion; Oniontchi; Onyx; Onyx Ring; Opa-Opa; Opal; Opal Ring; Opeo; Orange; Orange Ball; Orange Bottle; Orange Cane; Orange Cat Eye; Orange Diamond; Orange Flower; Orange Gummy Bear; Orange Kid; Orange Light of Avarice; Orange M&M; Orange Plumbob; Orange Potion; Orange Rubik’s Cube; Orange Rupee; Orange Sceptre; Orange Slice; Orange Squid; Orange Staff; Orange Stray Fairy; Orange Umbrella; Orange Yoshi; Orange/Co-Star Luma; Ore Chunk; Oregon; Oreo; Organ of Evening Calm; Original 1978 LGBT Flag; Orina Aida’s Kirara; Orko; Oscar, Knight of Astora; Oscar the Grouch; Oshawott; Ostro; Ototchi; Ouran High School Crest; Oval; OWSLA Logo; Oyajitchi P; P Bag; P Elder Futhark Rune; P Tile; P-Switch; P-Wing; Pabumon; Pac-Man; Pachikutchi; Pachirisu; Paddle; Padparadscha; Paintball; Pakistan Flag; Paladin Class Icon; Palico; Palm Tree; Palmon; Panalterous Flag; Panama Flag; Pancakes; Panflux Flag; Pangender Flag; Panplatonic Flag; Panromantic Flag; Pansexual Flag; Pansexual Symbol; Paopu Fruit; Paparatchi; Paper; Papyrus; Para-Beetle; Paraboy Flag; Paragirl Flag; Paragon Logo; Parallelogram; Paralyzed Buff; Paranonbinary Flag; PaRappa the Rapper; Parasect; Park Ball; Parrot; Parsnip; Partial Heart Container; Partly Cloudy; Party Poison Gun; Passbook Icon; Passion Fruit Sorbet; Patamon; Patapatatchi; Patrick Star; Paula; Pause Button; Paw Print; Peace Sign; Peace Symbol; Peach; Peach Lovebird; Pear; Pearl; PearlGel; Peashooter; Pecha Berry; Pegasus Boots; Pegasus Seed; Pelipper; Pencil; Pendant of Courage; Pendant of Power; Pendant of Wisdom; Pennsylvania; Pentagon; Pentagram; Penultisexual Flag; Pepe the Frog; Peppa Pig; Pepperdance’s Cutie Mark; Peppermint Butler; Pepsi Logo; Percentage Sign; Periboy Flag; Peridot; Perifluid Flag; Perigirl Flag; Periodic Table of Elements; Perry the Platypus; Peru Flag; Peso; Peter Löwenbräu Griffin; Peter Pepper; Petittchi; Petrus of Thorlund; PewDiePie Logo; Phanto; PhD Flopper Perk; Phineas; Phione; Phoenix Down; Phone Icon; Photo Finish; Photos Icon; Pi Symbol; Pichikutchi; Pichimon; Pichu; Pick Color Icon; Pidgit; Pig; Pig Snout; Piglet; Pikachu; Pills; Pin; Pineapple; Pineapple Gummy Bear; Ping Pong Ball; Pink Apricorn; Pink Baby Bottle; Pink Ball; Pink Beads; Pink Berry; Pink Candy; Pink Chaos Emerald; Pink Diamond; Pink Dummy/Pacifier/Binky; Pink Lantern; Pink Marshmallow; Pink Panther; Pink Potion; Pink Ranger/Kimberly Hart; Pink Ranger’s Helmet; Pink Ring; Pink Squid; Pink Stray Fairy; Pink Umbrella; Pink Yoshi; Pink/Hungry Luma; Pinkie Pie; Pinkie Pie Head; Pinkie Pie's Cutie Mark; Pinky; Pinterest Icon; Pinterest Logo; Pipotchi; Piplup; Piranha Plant; Pirate’s Bell; Pirorirotchi; Pisces; Pit; Pixelboy Flag; Pixelgirl Flag; Pixelnonbinary Flag; Pizza; Pizza Dude; Placiosexual Flag; Plain Badge; Planeswalker Symbol; Plank; Plankton; Planktontchi; Plant Badge; Platoniromantic Flag; Play Button; Playboy Logo; PlayStation Logo; PlayStation 2 Logo; PlayStation 3 Logo; PlayStation 4 Controller; Plue; Plus Sign; Pluto; Po; Pochitchi; Podobos Tower; Poe; Poe Clock; Poe Dameron; Poe Dameron’s X-Wing; Poe Soul in Bottle; Pointer Cursor; Points Icon; Poison Apple; Poison Mushroom; Poison Symbol; Poison TM; Poison Type Icon; Poisoned Buff; Poisoned Meat; Poké Ball; Pokémon Dollar; Pokémon Flute; Pokémon Logo; Pokémon X Logo; Pokémon Y Logo; Pokey; Poland Flag; Politoed; Poliwag; Pols Voice; Polyalterous Flag; Polyamorous Flag;; Polygender Flag; Polyplatonic Flag; Polyromantic Flag; Polysexual (But Not Romantic) Flag; Polysexual Flag; Pontiac Logo; Pony Flag; Ponyo; Ponytchi; Poo; Pooka; Poop; Pooter; Pop Tart; Popcorn; Popo; Poppet; Popsical; Popsicle; Poro; Poromon; Porygon; Possessed Nayru; Postman’s Hat; Pot of Gold; Potato Mine; Potion; Potion/Mega Potion; Potion of Fire Resistance; Potion of Harming; Potion of Healing; Potion of Invisibility; Potion of Leaping; Potion of Night Vision; Potion of Poison; Potion of Regeneration; Potion of Slowness; Potion of Strength; Potion of Swiftness; Potion of Water Breathing; Potion of Weakness; Pound Cake; Pound Symbol; POW Block; Power Balloon/P-Balloon; Power Bracelet; Power Button; Power Glove; Poyomon; Praegender Flag; Prayer Skill Symbol; Premier Ball; Pressure Pad; Preterboy Flag; Pretergirl Flag; Pretty Lights Logo; Pretzel; Pride; Priest Class Symbol; Previous Track Button; Prince; Prince Zuko; Princess Anna of Arendelle; Princess Cadence; Princess Celestia; Princess Celestia’s Cutie Mark; Princess Daisy’s Crown; Princess Leia Organa; Princess Luna/Nightmare Moon’s Cutie Mark; Princess Peach’s Crown; Princess Rosalina; Princess Toadstool; Princess Zelda; Pringles Logo; Prinplup; Private Franklin Delano Donut; Private Kaikaina Grif/Sister; Private Leonard L. 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[nanenna]

Mystery Machine Mishap!

Chapter 2: Getting Prepared to be Prepared

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Fandom: Undertale Rating: General Audiences Pairing: None Summary: There was an accident at the Lab and now Papyrus is left trying to take care of Sans as a toddler while Alphys tries to figure out what went wrong and how to fix it. To say Papyrus is unprepared is not just an understatement, it’s downright fact. But Papyrus is determined to be the best big brother ever, even better than Sans is when he’s the older on.

As usual, also available to read on fanfiction.net or AO3 under the same name. (links not included because that messes with the search function)

  The next morning started even earlier than normal. Just as Papyrus was starting to think about what to make for breakfast, he heard a knocking sound from upstairs followed by little Sans’s plaintive voice. He ran up the stairs to find the toddler standing at the end of the hallway, knocking on the wall.

“daddy! daddy get up!” Sans called at the wall.

“SANS, WHAT ARE YOU…? SANS?”

Sans turned and pointed at the wall, “where daddy? daddy door gone!”

“DADDY ISN’T HOME RIGHT NOW,” Papyrus said carefully. “ARE YOU HUNGRY? I WAS ABOUT TO GO MAKE BREAKFAST, OR YOU COULD FINISH OFF THE FRIES FROM GRILLBY’S.” Papyrus flinched as he offered the fries, but since he wasn’t sure Sans would eat what Undyne had brought over he thought they would be better than nothing.

Sans rubbed an eye socket, then trundled towards Papyrus with his arms up. “hungy.”

Papyrus scooped Sans up, then carried him downstairs. One of the things Gerson had sent over was a kind of booster seat with a belt attached, something that Sans would at the very least have a hard time getting out of. Once he got Sans settled in Papyrus reminded himself he really would need to go thank Gerson in person. He bustled about the kitchen pulling options out, when he turned back to Sans he found the toddler still sitting in place and couldn’t help the relieved grin that spread across his face.

Breakfast turned out to be almost as messy an affair as dinner the night before, but since Papyrus hadn’t dressed Sans yet the clean up would be relatively easy, just wiping down his bones with a damp cloth. Once that was taken of Papyrus dressed Sans in the outfit Gerson had sent over: a green and pink striped shirt, a pair of little overalls, yellow socks, and a pair of shoes that were way too big and were eventually just left off.

“THERE, YOU LOOK SO MUCH BETTER IN CLOTHES THAT ARE ACTUALLY MEANT FOR A MONSTER OF YOUR DIMINUTIVE STATURE!” Sans fiddled with the straps of his overalls, seemingly entranced by the feel of the buttons. “NOW SANS, WE ARE GOING TO GO TO THE SHOP AND SEE ABOUT GETTING YOU A FEW MORE THINGS, LIKE SHOES THAT ACTUALLY FIT. YOU READY TO GO?”

“okay,” Sans held his arms up. Papyrus picked Sans up and settled him on a hip, then did one last check to make sure he had everything he needed. Papyrus’s phone started ringing. He pulled it out to see the caller was an unknown number.

“HELLO?”

“S-so I was just calling to l-let you know… um… I mean! Alphys here! I uh… asked Undyne for your number, I hope you don’t m-mind.”

“HELLO DR. ALPHYS,” Papyrus said cheerfully. “HOW ARE YOU THIS MORNING?”

“I’m f-fine, thanks for asking. Oh! How is Sans is he still uh… tiny?”

“SANS IS FINE AS WELL, NO CHANGES FROM LAST NIGHT THOUGH.”

“R-right, I suppose it w-was too much to hope it would wear off after a g-g-good night’s sleep. Anyway, I called to let you know that I won’t be working on the machine r-right away. I want to finish decoding th-the blueprints and notes first, t-t-to make sure there are no more accidents like with Sans. But uh… S-Sans was the one doing most of the decoding so… it might take me a while...” Alphys trailed off sadly. Just as Papyrus was about to assure her it would be fine, she picked back up. “B-but don’t worry! I’m sure I can figure this out and fix the machine and restore Sans! It might take a while, but I will do it! Okay?”

“THAT’S WONDERFUL, DR. ALPHYS. I HAVE EVERY FAITH IN YOUR ABILITIES! AFTER ALL, ANYONE WHO CAN BUILD AN AMAZING ENTERTAINMENT ROBOT LIKE METTATON WILL SURELY BE ABLE TO FIGURE OUT AND REPAIR SOME OLD MACHINE THAT CAN MYSTERIOUSLY TURN MONSTERS BACK INTO SMALL CHILDREN.”

“R-right...” Alphys didn’t sound so sure of herself.

“AND OF COURSE, IF THERE IS ANYTHING THE GREAT PAPYRUS CAN DO TO HELP YOU WOULD ASK, BECAUSE I WOULD BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO HELP IN ANY WAY I CAN.”

“About th-the uh… about the only way to help right n-n-now would be to help decode the… the notes. Are you uh… do you happen to know the cipher? Like Sans did?”

“I DID NOT EVEN KNOW SANS KNEW ANY CIPHERS OR CODES, MORE OF HIS POINTLESS SECRETS. NO, NOT YOU SANS. OLDER SANS… I KNOW IT’S WEIRD AND CONFUSING. I’M SORRY ALPHYS, I THINK I NEED TO LET YOU GO, LITTLE SANS IS GETTING CRANKY.”

“Maybe he needs a nap?” Alphys asked, unsure if toddlers took naps in the middle of the morning.

“OH, IMAGINE THAT. SANS NEEDS A NAP.”

Alphys snorted, the hand not holding the phone slapped over her mouth to muffle the inelegant sound. “W-well I’ll let you go and uh… get back to work I guess. T-talk to you later, Papyrus.”

Sans tugged on Papyrus’s shirt and asked for the phone. “JUST A MOMENT BEFORE YOU HANG UP, SANS HAS SOMETHING TO SAY.” Papyrus held the phone up to the toddler.

Sans brought the phone close and whispered, “bye bye, i love you,” into it before pushing it back towards Papyrus. There was a high pitched shriek and a puff of smoke from the phone, followed by a click. When Papyrus checked the call was ended and the phone seemed unharmed despite the odd smoke it had just emitted.

Papyrus shrugged and pocketed the phone before turning his attention back to Sans. “NOW, ARE YOU READY TO GO TO THE STORE WITH ME FOR REAL THIS TIME ASSUMING THERE ARE NO MORE INTERRUPTIONS?”

“yeah,” Sans replied as he grinned up at Papyrus.

“THEN LET US GO TO THE STORE, NYEH HEH HEH!” Papyrus pointed dramatically before leaving the house and excitedly running down the street.

The bell over the door jingled when Papyrus entered, he knocked the snow from his boots before going inside and carefully shut the door behind him. “Well hello there, Papyrus.” Bonnie smiled at the tall skeleton, “I heard a rumor and was hoping you could clear it up for me.” Her eyes traveled down to the toddler perched on Papyrus’s hip and her ears perked up.

“HELLO BONNIE,” Papyrus cheerfully greeted the shop keep. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT RUMOR YOU MAY HAVE HEARD, BUT I DO KNOW THAT SANS HERE WAS TURNED INTO A TODDLER BY ACCIDENT AND HE IS IN NEED OF SOME SUPPLIES.”

Bonnie whistled, “That was the rumor I was talking about. Goodness, well ain’t that just something else.” She leaned over the counter to get a better look at the toddler. “Well hey there, sweetie, remember me?”

Sans shyly waved at Bonnie, but otherwise kept his face hidden in Papyrus’s side. “HE DOESN’T SEEM TO HAVE HIS MEMORIES OF BEING OLDER,” Papyrus explained quietly. “AND IS VERY SHY.”

“That’s okay, all my little nieces and nephews were shy at that age too, I understand. So how can I help you?”

“I WAS HOPING TO PURCHASE SOME SUPPLIES FOR SANS, WE’RE NOT SURE WHEN DR. ALPHYS CAN FIX ALL THIS SO I’M JUST STOCKING UP FOR NOW. THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS GOING TO BE PREPARED FOR ANYTHING! NYEH HEH HEH!”

“heh heh heh!” Sans echoed from Papyrus’s side with a wide grin on his face.

“SO DO YOU HAVE ANY CLOTHES IN HIS SIZE?” Papyrus continued. “OR FOOD HE MIGHT LIKE? GERSON SENT OVER SOME THINGS BUT IT WAS A STOPGAP MEASURE AT BEST.”

“Hm… can’t say I have much,” Bonnie admitted. “But I’ll tell you what, my sister might have some spare things she can send over, I’ll tell her to stop by later.”

“THANK YOU, BONNIE, THAT WOULD BE VERY HELPFUL. TODDLERS NEED A SURPRISING AMOUNT OF CARE, I HAVE FOUND.”

Bonnie just nodded. Sans tugged at Papyrus’s shirt, “cinny bunny!”

“NOW SANS, YOU JUST ATE! YOU DON’T NEED ANY SWEETS.”

“Awww… let him have it,” Bonnie wheedled. “At that age they stop eating when they’re full, and he’s been such a good little monster, haven't you Sans?” Bonnie smiled wider as she pulled out a cinnamon bunny and held it out for Sans. Before Papyrus could say anything else, Sans had snatched the treat and shoved it in his mouth.

“SANS! SUCH MANNERS! WHAT DO WE SAY TO NICE MONSTERS WHEN THEY GIVE US NICE THINGS?”

Sans looked up at Bonnie and grinned all the wider, crumbs and icing all over his face. “aye wuv yuu.”

“Oh my goodness!” Bonnie put a hand over her chest as if she had just been shot. “I… I love you too, Sans.” The toddler grinned before cramming more of the pastry into his mouth.

“SANS! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY ‘THANK YOU’ TO BONNIE!”

“That’s alright, I think he’s just fine as is. I’ll just...” Bonnie held up a finger, then quickly gathered more cinnamon bunnies into a paper bag and handed them over to Papyrus. “Just to make sure you have a treat for such a well behaved little monster.” She winked at Sans.

“WELL… THANK YOU, BONNIE, THAT’S VERY SWEET OF YOU.” Papyrus accepted the bag with a grin. The pair waved before exiting the store.

Papyrus was feeling much better, between the boxes of cold cereal Gerson had sent over, the fries from Grillby’s, and the cinnamon bunnies from Bonnie, he was sure Sans wouldn't go hungry at least. As they approached the house, Papyrus was surprised to see Grillby standing on the porch. He had just turned away from the door when Papyrus raised a hand in greeting.

Before either of them could say a thing, Sans shrieked, “girby!” and started squirming in Papyrus’s hold.

“HELLO, MR. GRILLBY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT OUR HOUSE? CAN I HELP YOU?” The closer Papyrus got to Grillby, the harder Sans squirmed. Once Papyrus was on the porch it became a struggle to keep the toddler contained. Papyrus quickly tucked the bag of pastries into his inventory to free up his other hand.

“girby!”

“…… actually, I want to help you.” Grillby held up one of the ‘to-go’ paper bags from his restaurant along with a fresh bottle of ketchup.

“girby! girby!”

“OH! THANK YOU!” Papyrus had no intention of feeding Sans any more of Grillby’s greasy food if he could help it, but considering how picky Sans had been so far it wouldn’t hurt to keep his options open. As Papyrus reached to accept the offered food, Sans finally managed to squirm out of his grasp and plopped onto the porch. Before either adult could react, Sans had attached himself to Grillby’s leg.

“girby!” Sans declared happily as he buried his face into the elemental’s knee.

“…………………” Grillby stared down at the toddler, unsure what to do.

“WOWIE! I DIDN’T THINK SANS REMEMBERED ANYTHING FROM BEING OLDER, BUT I THINK HE REMEMBERS WHAT GOOD PLATONIC FRIENDS YOU TWO ARE!”

Grillby just nodded as Papyrus tucked the bag of fries into his inventory. Unsure what else to do, Grillby awkwardly patted Sans’s skull. Sans looked up at him, all smiles.

“THAT’S VERY SWEET OF YOU SANS, BUT I’M SURE MR. GRILLBY HAS A VERY BUSY DAY AHEAD OF HIM AND YOU NEED TO LET GO OF HIM SO HE CAN GO.”

“noooooooooooo...” Sans whined and clung to Grillby’s leg all the harder.

“SANS, NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR USUAL STUBBORN TENDENCIES!” He grabbed Sans and bodily dragged him away from Grillby. Sans immediately started crying. Big, globby tears trailed down his chubby cheek bones as Papyrus settled the toddler in his arms. Sans leaned towards Grillby and reached for him as he continued to cry. “I’M SORRY ABOUT THIS, MR. GRILLBY. SANS HAS BEEN VERY EMOTIONAL EVER SINCE THE ACCIDENT.”

“……… that’s quite alright, children cannot help being emotional.” Grillby gently pet Sans’s skull again, causing the toddler to calm down a little. “…… I should get going, I will need to open soon.”

“GOODBYE, MR. GRILLBY.” Sans’s crying picked back up as Grillby left. “REALLY SANS, IT’S NOT AS IF YOU WILL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN.” Papyrus took Sans inside and set about rocking and soothing him until the toddler calmed down. He had just gotten Sans distracted with a bright orange plush dinosaur Gerson had given him when there was a knock on the door. Papyrus set Sans down and the couch and went to answer it. “HELLO MS. RUBY, I’M VERY GLAD TO SEE YOU!”

“Hello Papyrus,” the innkeeper replied. Little Usa stared up at him from behind her mother’s skirt. “Bonnie told me you need some things for Sans while he’s uh… small? Oh! Is that him?”

Papyrus looked down to see Sans was looking at Usa and Ruby from behind his legs the same way Usa was looking at them from behind her mother. “YES, AS YOU CAN SEE SANS IS NOW EVEN SMALLER THAN BEFORE, AND HE WAS VERY SMALL TO BEGIN WITH.”

Ruby giggled, “Well I do have a few things, I hope they help.” She held up a cardboard box, which Papyrus accepted gratefully.

“THANK YOU, I’M SURE THIS WILL BE A GREAT HELP IN TAKING CARE OF SANS UNTIL DR. ALPHYS CAN FIX EVERYTHING.” He peeked into the box to see it was full of small clothes, a few pairs of little shoes, and a couple toys.

“Of course, it can be so hard being a single parent. Not that I would know personally, but even with a spouse children are a lot of work. Can’t take your eyes off them for a second.”

“THAT IS A LESSON I LEARNED ALL TOO WELL JUST YESTERDAY,” Papyrus sighed as he remembered the antics Sans had gotten up to the night before.

“Well I’ve got to get back to the inn, there’s only so long Bonnie can cover for me. Come along, Usa! Say goodbye to Mister Papyrus and Sans.” Ruby and Usa waved before they turned to leave, walking down the street hand in hand.

Papyrus shut the door behind them, then turned to face Sans. “HOW ABOUT WE SEE IF ANY OF THESE SHOES FIT, THEN WE CAN PLAY IN THE SNOW!” Sans was excited about the idea of playing in the snow and squirmed in place as Papyrus tried the shoes on him. The second pair fit well enough, and he had just gotten the first one securely tied when there was another knock at the door. “JUST A MOMENT!” Papyrus called, he didn’t want Sans running around with just one shoe on, he’d be sure to fall if he tried walking that way, so he quickly tied the other before going to answer the door. This time Sans trailed behind him and hid behind the taller skeleton’s legs as Papyrus opened the door. “OH! HELLO MS. SYLVILA! I WAS NOT EXPECTING YOU TO STOP BY TOO.”

“Hello Papyrus,” a white rabbit monster greeted. “I heard from Dizzy what happened at Grillby’s yesterday, and Bonnie confirmed it wasn’t just some silly rumor. She also said you could use some things for Sans?” She held up an armful of clothes. “Cinnamon just outgrew a few things and I was wondering what to do with them.”

“OH YES, I’M VERY GRATEFUL FOR ANY SUPPLIES FOR SANS, WE’RE NOT SURE HOW LONG HE’S GOING TO BE STUCK AS A TODDLER AND IT WAS A MOST UNEXPECTED TURN OF EVENTS.” Papyrus accepted the offered pile, an awkward affair of somehow getting his arms underneath it as Sylvila moved her own arms out of the way. “AND I AM CERTAINLY GLAD THAT EVERYONE HAS BEEN SO HELPFUL SO FAR!”

“Of course, dear! As you said, it’s so unexpected after all! Nobody could be prepared for their big brother to suddenly get turned into a small child. How have you been holding up?”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS BEEN DOING AN EXCELLENT JOB! SANS HAS BEEN KEPT FED, ENTERTAINED, AND EVEN GOTTEN MORE EXERCISE IN THE LAST DAY THAN I’VE SEEN HIM GET IN A YEAR!”

Sylvila giggled, “Yes, toddlers certainly are full of energy. Don’t forget to lay him down for a nap later, they often fight it but they do need the rest.”

“I’M SURE SANS WILL BE EXCITED TO TAKE A NAP,” Papyrus said confidently.

“It was nice chatting with you, but I’ve got to get going. There’s no knowing when Babs and Cinnamon will get back from one of their slow walks.”

“THANK YOU AGAIN!” Papyrus called as Sylvila left. He had just deposited the fresh pile of clothes on top of the half filled box Ruby had given him when there was another knock at the door. Sans trailed after Papyrus again as he went to answer the door, “OH, HELLO MR. PAUL!”

A large, brown bear monster in an orange jacket stood in the doorway holding a casserole dish filled with… something. “Hello Papyrus, I heard an interesting rumor and thought you could use a warm meal.”

“WHY THANK YOU, THAT’S VERY KIND OF YOU.”

“Oh!” Paul froze in the middle of handing the dish over to Papyrus to stare down at Sans. “Is that really Sans?” He unceremoniously shoved the dish at Papyrus and crouched down to get a better look at Sans.

“YES, THAT REALLY AND TRULY IS SANS, HE’S VERY SHY.”

“I can see that,” Paul replied as he tried to get a better look at the toddler hiding behind Papyrus’s boots. When he tried to reach for Sans, causing the toddler to flinch and shrink further back, Papyrus decided they had both had enough.

“WELL THANK YOU FOR THE UM… THE DISH. IT WAS VERY THOUGHTFUL OF YOU, I’M SURE. BUT WE HAVE A BUSY DAY AHEAD OF US AND REALLY MUST GET BACK TO IT.”

“Certainly, gotta keep them political gears grinding.” Paul waved a farewell before turning away as Papyrus shut the door.

Papyrus heaved a sigh of relief before going into the kitchen to find someplace to stash the dish. The rest of the morning went on like that, more of the townsfolk stopping by with second-hand clothes and toys to gift Sans, more advice on childcare, a few with food that Papyrus wasn’t all that sure would appeal to Sans, and a few who were just curious and wanted the rumors running around town confirmed. Papyrus found the attention strangely exhausting, why would their well meaning neighbors kindly gifts tire him out so? Perhaps Papyrus was just exhausted from the whole situation.

“pappus,” Sans grabbed one of Papyrus’s fingers and tugged insistently, “hungy.”

“OH GOODNESS, WHAT TIME IS IT?” Papyrus found the clock and realized the whole morning had gotten away from them. “WOWIE, NO WONDER! WELL, WE HAVE A LOT TO CHOOSE FROM, HOW ABOUT WE BOTH GET SOME LUNCH?”

 Papyrus was wiping a bit of spilled food from Sans’s face as the toddler sleepily nodded his head. Papyrus couldn't help but smile at that, of course Sans would need a nap. Honestly, Sans’s napping habits were already very toddler-like, this at least hadn’t changed. Papyrus scooped Sans up and carried him upstairs, then tucked him into the race car bed.

Sans sleepily rubbed an orbit and yawned. “not sleepy,” he insisted.

“I AM NOT SO SURE I BELIEVE THAT,” Papyrus said with repressed laughter as he watched Sans snuggle into the bed and start to drift off. He was sorely tempted to take a nap himself, and he was starting to wonder why he was resisting. After all, he had been told by five different monsters that he needed to take care of himself as well, a short nap would do him good. So Papyrus laid down on the bed next to Sans and drifted off.

Papyrus woke with a jump, something had startled him awake and he was groggily trying to figure out what. He blearily looked around, he had been asleep on top of his covers, which was odd. But even odder was the way the corner of them were thrown back.

Where was Sans?

The realization that he had fallen asleep next to Sans but Sans was now not in the bed woke Papyrus the rest of the way up. He jumped out of bed and ran from the room. There was a loud voice coming from downstairs, he ran down them to find Undyne standing in his living room with a giggling Sans held up above her head. Papyrus sagged against the stair rail in relief.

“UNDYNE, WHEN’D YOU GET HERE?”

“Just now! Hey! What was Sans doing sitting in the living room all alone?”

“THE SLIPPERY LITTLE SNAIL SNUCK OUT OF THE ROOM WHILE I UH… WHILE I WASN’T LOOKING!”

“Yeeeaaaaah,” Undyne eyed him like she wasn’t quite sure she believed the whole story, causing Papyrus to sweat nervously. “Little kids are sneaky like that. Good thing Aunty Undyne is here to keep this little punk out of trouble!” She lifted him in the air again, causing Sans to squeal in delight.

“AUNTY UNDYNE?” Papyrus asked as he stepped the rest of the way into the living.

“Yeah, just until this little squirt isn’t quite so little anymore. Hey! I noticed you’ve been busy.” Undyne shifted Sans to her hip so she had a hand free to motion to the piles of toys and toddler sized clothes sitting around the living room.

“OH YES, EVERYONE HAS BEEN VERY KIND AND GENEROUSLY GIVING SUPPLIES FOR SANS. MOST OF THESE ARE CLOTHES OTHER CHILDREN HAVE RECENTLY OUTGROWN, BUT A LOT OF IT FITS SURPRISINGLY WELL.”

“That really is nice, it’s good to see monsters coming together to help each other out!”

“AND YOU SHOULD SEE THE PANTRY AND REFRIGERATOR! IT SEEMS EVERYONE DECIDED TO HELP WITH SANS’S PICKY EATING HABITS BY GIVING HIM LOTS OF OPTIONS. THOUGH I’M NOT SURE HALF OF THEM ARE THINGS A TODDLER WOULD LIKE TO EAT.”

“Papyrus, you goof! I’m sure some of it’s meant for you too!” Undyne laughed.

“OH, RIGHT. OF COURSE. THE GREAT PAPYRUS KNEW THAT.” He looked away to hide the faint dusting of pink that washed across his cheek bones.

“pappus! pappus!” Sans was reaching for Papyrus, who happily took the toddler from Undyne’s grasp. “up! up!”

“REALLY? AND HERE I THOUGHT YOU WOULD RATHER LAY BACK DOWN,” Papyrus teased as he lifted Sans into the air again.

Undyne smiled, “I was right, you really are a good big brother.”

“OF COURSE I AM, NYEH HEH HEH! BUT THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENT ANYWAY.”

  I don't know why I started adding in all that mystery with their father, but I trust everyone in this fandom to realize who he was and what's going on. But I'll spell it out anyway because I'm a dork like that: it's Gaster. Their father was Gaster. And no, the mystery is not solved in this fic, that was never the point. It's just some angst that kept inserting itself in that wouldn't let me cut it. Gotta have some I guess, gotta balance out the toddlery adorableness somehow!

Also the bit with Sans saying "i love you" instead of "thank you" is based on something that actually happened to me while i was working at an ice cream shop. It was so adorable I wanted to give the kid another ice cream! And of course, I couldn't help putting in hints of my OTP. But since half of my OTP is a toddler right now there's not exactly any good way to put in content for my OTP so it's just hints. Feel free to ignore if they're not your OTP.

[visawords]

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[forlornmelody]

Spare Parts--Chapter 1

Rating: M (this might change later)

Ship: FemShep Clone/Maya Brooks

AO3 Link: here

Cerberus clones Commander Jane Shepard for spare parts, and the Illusive Man issues a termination order upon the success of the Lazarus Project. One Cerberus agent has bigger plans. Rasa will shape the clone into the savior the galaxy really needs, at any cost. She just never expects it to cost her heart. 

Note:  This is a sort of prequel to Double The Trouble, as I seek to flesh out Jane Doe's back story. The Mass Effect comics will be referenced here and there, but they won't be necessary to understand the plot. The rating may also change as the story progresses.

For two years, Rasa waited. Fitting--Shepard herself waited two years to come back from the void. It only makes sense that her replacement do the same. Several times Rasa, then going by the name Hope Lillium, had considered destroying the clone. Transporting the pod proved difficult, if not dangerous. Several times she risked waking it at an inopportune time. Even then, Rasa couldn’t be sure if the clone would wake up at all. Operative Miranda Lawson hadn’t cloned Shepard for anything but spare parts.

And yet…

Why bother cloning Shepard’s brain if it would not work in similar fashion? Rasa knew Miranda—she wouldn’t do anything half-assed. Every detail of Shepard’s clone would be as close to the original as possible. Anything else would be a liability to Cerberus, and the rest of the galaxy.

Part of Rasa hoped Shepard would prove her wrong—that she would abandon her alien ass-kissing and start fighting for her own. She followed Shepard’s exploits against the Collectors, watched through Cerberus’s own security systems as she survived yet another suicide mission, with her entire team intact. Of course, the saint had to destroy the technology rather than hand it to Cerberus (for all the good that did.)

And then Hackett called Shepard for a favor, and Shepard destroyed an entire Batarian system. For one brief moment, Rasa had hope that something in Shepard had changed. Perhaps after taking down the Collector Base, she had finally come to her senses about the Council—about how each race only looked out for itself—about how humanity had to take care of its own.

And then Shepard turned herself in.

The Reapers wouldn’t wait for the Alliance to declare her innocence. Humanity needed a better hero. Rasa would provide that hero.

If only she could figure out how.

Rasa stood in front of a virtual interface, a much less expensive and more rudimentary one than the Illusive Man favored, but it suited her needs well enough. She had dossiers on all of Shepard’s known associates scattered across the interface, and she rifled through several of them as she searched for her answer.

The Consort? Too well-known. Though perhaps her memories of Shepard would prove useful in the future.

Shiala? Her cipher couldn’t be that useful now that the Reapers had invaded. The clone would be too easily recognized among the colonists on Feros.

Liara T’soni? She would have so many more memories of Shepard than the others, personal memories. And yet…

Bloody hell, Rasa thought to herself, sweeping several dossiers to the side. Damn Shepard and all her alien followers. It’s not like they ever came to her rescue after her arrest. Rasa rubbed her face, nearly calling it a night. And then her eyes fell upon Dr. Okeer’s dossier.

The bad doctor had died shortly after meeting Shepard. Rasa had filed it away, not all that interested in the mad Krogan’s experiments, nor in his ‘perfect’ krogan who later assisted Shepard against the Collectors. One word caught Rasa’s eyes, and she smiled.

Turning toward the stasis pod behind her, Rasa slid a hand down its glass surface, eyeing the shadow of a body inside. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

Rasa followed Rana Thanoptis for seven days following her discovery. The former scientist led a quiet life. She rarely left her apartment on Hayeiana’s largest city: Serrice, and even then it was only to order take out or to visit her place of employment—the Serrice Military Development Center. Rana had no known companions or associates outside of the Serrrice laboratories, making her the perfect target.

Inside, Rana sprawled out on her sofa, watching the latest Blasto sequel. Thanoptis glanced up as her doorbell rang. Strange, her delivered dinner had arrived an hour before. Yawning, she paused the vid and made her way to the door. Hopefully whoever it was wouldn’t take much of her time—Rana needed to go to bed soon. She pressed the intercom button, pulling up a live feed of the delivery woman outside.

“Delivery!” She chirped, waving a datapad in front of the camera. Her long dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and her brown eyes glimmered in the screen.

“I didn’t order anything.” Between the Blue Suns and Serrice’s rival companies, Thanoptis had enough enemies. She wouldn’t open the door for just anyone.

“Must be a gift…from an admirer! Whomever it was didn’t leave a name….” She glanced down at her datapad. “Oh! Wait. Here it is.” The delivery woman laughed nervously. “No first name…but the last name is Shepard.”

Rana blinked. “This must be some sort of joke. Shepard barely let me out alive either time. You can tell her that I rejected the pack—“

“Wait! There’s a note!” The delivery woman stepped closer, clearing her throat. “Dear Rana, sorry for Virmire and Korlus. I might need your help soon, so take this as my ap—“

“Alright, alright. Come in. No need to read her note to whole neighborhood.” Rana buzzed her inside. She watched the delivery woman wheel a tall package inside on a dolly. It stood as tall as her, if not a meter taller. One hell of an apology.

“So, do you need me to sign something or--?” Rana almost turned around, and then she felt a muzzle of a gun at her back.

“I’m afraid I’ll need much more than that.”

[barbecuedphoenix]

Well I’ve certainly talked a lot about her in the last post, so maybe it’s time to reintroduce Zee. 

Meet my Guardian from the English server, dear readers. And the leading lady in the fan-fiction that will one day hit this blog. ;) 

(To read the full profile, hit the blue ‘Photo’ button on the side of this post!)

Name: Zephania ‘Zee’ Tantiangco

Age (at the beginning of the story): 23

Birthday: December 29 

Height: 1.53 m (5′ 0″) 

Guard: Shadow

Lineage: Only mostly human. She’s still trying to figure out that last 3%.

Occupation: Annalist. Her primary job is to collate both past and recent field reports brought in by other agents. But now and again, she ventures into the field to carry out detailed recon work, interview witnesses, and/or investigate glaring discrepancies in the paperwork, always avoiding scuffles whenever possible to gather intelligence. Because she’s a scribe by training, she’s occasionally called on to pen public missives and official Shadow Guard statements (using tactical misinformation, though she’s always ambivalent about this). In short, she’s a reporter transplanted to the faery realm.

Skills: Writing in human script, Eldaryan, and cipher (quasi Shadow training) || Espionage (Shadow training) || Basic Kali stick-fighting (Shadow training) || Cooking and food science || Wilderness survival || Minor lucid dreaming potential (Hereditary) 

Weaknesses: Non-allergen asthma (she wears a vial of anti-inflammatory aromatic oils around her neck) || Low cold tolerance || Myopic || Tendency to jump in to help the underdog || Frequently too proud to ask for help herself || Loathes disclosing the full extent of her mistakes, and resorts to duplicity to minimize outside knowledge   

Weapons of Choice: Her pen (sometimes literally) || Twin Kali sticks || Her Swiss Army knife || Grenades made from waste kitchen ingredients and plant materials || Tactical questions and a droll sense of humor || Alibis and improvisation || Curiosity and a single-minded quest for answers 

Familiars: Sigmund (male Sabali), Feng-Huang (female Lovigis)

Crush: Her boss Nevra, who likes to butter her up to take over his paperwork every week. But then again, she punched him in his one eye the day they met, so he might just be evening out the score.  

Background Story: 

A Chinese-Filipino journalism student who was born in the United States, but only recently returned to the country of her birth to study. The majority of her life was spent traveling abroad with her parents: a celebrity chef and the manager who helped build his media empire.

This globetrotting lifestyle, her severe non-allergen asthma, and a know-it-all’s sense of humor that was decidedly unpopular with other children ensured that Zee’s childhood was a solitary one. With friends her age virtually nonexistent, she substituted them with books, writing, her family (including various hired nurses and chaperones), and people-watching during her frequent trips to airports.

Eventually, years of careful physical therapy (and sheer stubbornness) allowed Zee to set up a life for herself in California to study food science: the first step in grooming herself as the successor to her father’s culinary empire (by tacit family agreement). The city she chose was a touch too distant and too colorful for her parents’ taste, but a promise for regular contact (and a hefty credit card line) ameliorated old, parental fears enough to let Zee embark on a new life on the Golden Coast.  

Among instructors, the common opinion was that Zee was a highly-promising student, a force of curiosity in the lab, and a passionate writer with next-to-no fear of traveling. Among classmates, she was ‘that little snob’ who refused to stop correcting lab partners and spoke as though she swallowed a dictionary, while having no clue what to do with herself outside of class, despite her stellar track record. But neither group anticipated Zee abruptly dropping out after three years: the result of one too many private experiments with her freedom (apparently outside of class). With that mercenary willpower that first brought her to California against her parents’ wishes, she severed ties and moved further north-- alone-- to the not-as-balmy city of Seattle. And for a full year-- as far as her confounded family, friends, teachers, and colleagues knew-- she became a ghost. 

Zee eventually returned to the public radar-- as a markedly quieter, more retiring young woman with less of an encyclopedia complex-- after meeting the man who became her dearest friend: a sociology student named Joel, who shared her love of fact-chasing and camping, and was never put off by her reflexive wisecracks or reticence on her history. Joel convinced her to start again at his (smaller) university, seek help for herself, and pursue journalism as a new major after her interest in food science waned during her hiatus. Zee was still working up the courage to break the news to her parents-- that they’ll have to find a new successor for the family business, because journalism sparked a fierce love in her, pulling her into the world instead of benching her as the lifelong observer or rarified entertainer-- when Joel invited her on a last camping trip for their final spring break together as students.

Their destination: the Cascade Mountains of Washington State, where they hope to catch the First Salmon ceremony held by the native tribes there. Joel assured her that it was a going to be a spectacle, and Zee was hard-pressed to refuse, having barely set foot outside Seattle since her sudden flight to the city two years prior. 

They never did come back.  

[eternalandrei]

FASHION/APPEARANCE STATS

BOLD what applies to your muse

Body:

Long legs. Short legs.  Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. Muscular thighs. Skinny arms. Soft arms. Muscular arms. Toned stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby Stomach. Soft stomach.  Six-pack. Beer belly. Lean frame. Beefy/muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame(5 ft 4 or shorter). Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Thick ass. Thighbrows. Small waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hand. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Broad shoulder. Underweight. Average weight. Overweight.

Height(click here to convert to feet):

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

Skin:

Pale. Rosy. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth. Acne. Dry. Greasy. Soft.

Eyes:

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Blue. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set- Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned.

Hair:

Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Curly. Frizzy. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Buzz cut. Bald. Jaw length. Mohawk. White. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Blondette. Ombre. Light brown. Mouse brown. Chestnut brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown. Jet.black. Ginger. Auburn. Dyed red. Dyed any “unnatural color”. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows.

Tattoos/piercings:

Full sleeve. Thigh tattoo. Neck tattoo. Chest tattoo. One tattoo. A few here and there.Multiple. No tattoo. Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s). Genital piercing(s). Industrial piercing. Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing(s). Tongue piercing(s). Lip piercing(s). Tragus piercing. Angelbites. Labret. Stretches out ears. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s).

Cosmetics:

Eyeliner. Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Red lips. Pink lips. Dark lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow. Blush. Lipliner. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Shiny foundation. Concealer. Wears make up regularly. Wears it from time to time. Never wears make up.      

Scent:

Floral. Fruity. Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturiser. Shampoo. Cigarettes.Leather.Sweat. Food. Incense. Marijuana. Cologne. Whisky. Wine. Fried food. Blood.

Clothes.

Jeans. Tight pants. Overknee socks. Tights. Leggings. Yogapants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Tight/formfitting dress. Cardigans. Blouse. Button up shirt. Band Tshirt. Sports tshirt. Sweatpants. Tanktop. Fur. Faux fur. Leather. Designer. High street. Online stores.Thrift. Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxidress. Tie. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. Highslit dress/skit. T-shirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jeans shorts. Sweater. Sweater vest. Khaki pants. Suit. Hoodie. Harlem pants. Basketball shorts. Boxers. Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sportsbra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt. Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter. Silk. Lace. Velvet. Chemise. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Black. Dark colors.

Shoes.

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Knee-high boots. Platforms. Stripper heels. Barefeet. Loafers. Oxfords. Gladiator shoes. Neon colors. Pastels. Black. Dark colors.

Tagged: @bloodstrung Tagging: @violeteyedvampiremolloy @moral-cipher

[iwrotemywayto-revolution]

You’re my mission

Request: For the King George fic could you do something where the readers a spy for Washington sent to distract the king, but she ends up falling in love? Thanks again!

Pairing: King George iii x reader

Warnings: spying, angst, kissing and some suggestive stuff (it’s pg16 guys)

Word count: 1,667

A/N: My first time writing this character... Groffsauce is my muse ofc. Also I have no idea how the palace worked in the 1770s so just pretend it’s Downton Abbey. 

askbox || masterlist

--

You hurried down the corridor to set the fires before the royals awoke. Other maids bustled past you, lighting lamps and setting the table for breakfast. Most of them spared you a nod when they brushed past you before going on with their tasks.

As you passed the third footman, he slipped you a piece of paper. You nodded your thanks and moved on towards the breakfast room.

Once you had set the fire, you unfurled the note. It was written in a cipher around the key code “Washington”. You worked quickly, pretending to clean the grate, and decoded it.

M received word of mission in NY. Find out more. - W

You threw the piece of paper into the fire and stayed until it had burned completely. Then you got up and set off for the next room. Mulligan- for that was M- had uncovered a secret mission for some of the King’s men and you, ideally placed in the King’s castle, had to find out what.

Washington had sent you over after the war began, securing you a spot as a maid. In the few months since, you had worked quietly and efficiently, returning whatever intelligence you could. Now, though the work was hard, you got to set the fire in the King’s office and in his bedchambers.

--

As you crept into the King’s chambers, you had resolved to try and speak to him. You could, of course, just look around his office, but there was no guarantee that he had any of the papers that would tell you what you wanted to know.

You were purposefully a little loud unloading your tools and fiddling with the fireplace. You heard him roll over behind you and held your breath as you got up.

His eyes were open and the moment they met yours you returned to the servant role you were acting. “I’m s-so sorry, your majesty,” you stammered, lowering your gaze, “I did not mean to wake you.”

You watched him get up, stretching and blinking in the light of the curtains that some other maid had opened. “I expect better next time,” he said, sauntering over to you.

Fighting the urge to look up, you nodded. “Of course, sir.”

A moment later, you felt his fingers on your chin, forcing you to lift your gaze. You found yourself staring into curious blue eyes and reflexively looked away. He tutted and you reluctantly looked back.

You swallowed, suddenly scared. This was the man with the power and the desire to see your country reduced to a nation of taxpayers. “Who are you?” he asked, smirking.

“Y/N, your majesty” you curtsied.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said. He let go of you and you took a hasty step back. “I expect I’ll be seeing a lot of you, Y/N.”

--

Later, you realised you should have flirted more. Perhaps it would be better to take it slow, you reasoned, and give him less reason for suspicion.

You made sure to linger a little longer in the corridors, smiling whenever he saw you. And you made sure he saw you. Sometimes you saw his head turn to follow you when you walked through a room he was in. He was almost childish in his fascination with you.

In the mornings you would pretend to need to struggle with the fire so you would still be there when he woke. “Ah Y/N,” he would say, and order you to do some menial task- fetch him this broach, bring him another scone- the other maid had brought a cold one.

William, the third footman, brought you more updates on the mission. They were working on uncovering a specific plan.

One morning after you set the fire, the King called to you from his bed. You turned and found him standing in front of you. You opened your mouth to ask what he wanted, but he only smiled and, as on the day you met, tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

He leaned in and kissed you. You stilled, letting him hold you almost possessively. He’s still in his pyjamas, you noticed, and fought the desire to laugh.

After a moment, he pulled back. He looked nervous, but he quickly recovered. “I expect you not to mention that,” he said sharply.

You shook your head. “I won’t.”

On the same day that the King kissed you for the first time, William brought you another message. Mulligan had found out the nature of the mission- the assassination of General Washington. They needed you to find out the plan, and fast.

--

You gasped as George got to work sucking a hickey into the side of your neck. You knew you would have to button your collar up very highly tomorrow to hide it, but you didn’t stop him.

His office door was locked and you were pressed up against it, your arms pinned above your head.

He turned his attentions to the collar of your dress, smirking. Having undone the top button, he paused. “Want to hear a secret?”

“Impress me.”

He kissed your jaw and you shivered. “This time next week, we control the colonies again.”

“What?” you whispered, doing your best not to sound overly curious. His hands ghosted up your sides, making you shiver. One hand slipped under your skirts and started to lift them up.

“We kill him at his speech at Valley Forge,” George said, “your king shall rule absolute.”

Before you could formulate a thought in response or do so much as gasp, he had captured your lips in a bruising kiss and removed any thoughts of Washington from your mind.

--

You reported to William immediately after you left the King’s quarters. An assassination attempt? Your stomach dropped at the thought.

William blanched when you told him, wondering if a week would be time enough to pass on the message and save the General. For the revolution’s sake, you hoped so.

You spent the next weeks fearing the return of news from Mulligan. If they hadn’t received word of the plot in time- No. You couldn’t bear to think of it.

The king was increasingly smug as the day of the assassination approached. He started to give you little gifts- trinkets and simple jewelry mostly.

“I fear the revolution,” he admitted to you one morning when you had dared join him in his bed. “My advisors try to control me and I feel I can trust no one but you.”

You bent to kiss his forehead, ignoring the guilt. You hated to acknowledge it, but you were softening towards him. Beneath the commanding exterior was someone who cared deeply. You wondered if you could change him for the better.

–

The assassination had failed. The news reached the palace a week later, sending the king into a rage. You avoided him, using his distraction as an opportunity to search his offices.

There was little of interest- no papers were kept in his quarters. Doubtless his parliament remained the true home of any plans. Still, you sifted through the piles of letters on his desk, looking for something- anything.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could maintain the fiction. Your king and your country, though you wished them separate, couldn’t live together if you were to have a clear conscience.

You picked up a letter from a Colonel in Boston. He wrote of appalling conditions among the revolutionaries and of a Prussian baron coming to their aid. His troops aimed to intercept the baron when he made port.

“Y/N?”

You dropped the letter back onto the desk and turned to face the king. He stood in the doorway, clutching the frame. For a moment, his emotions flitted across his face- shock, hurt, anger- and then he controlled himself, expression going carefully blank. “What are you doing?” He asked, walking forward.

“Cleaning,” you told him, pointing to the cloth and bucket you had brought with you.

George reached for your hand and you let him take it. He turned your palm upwards and bent to kiss the centre. “Then why,” he said, voice dangerously soft, “are there ink stains on your fingers?”

You knew you had been caught. You didn’t say anything- any excuse you could come up with would only anger him.

“You know what I think?” His voice was calm but you could read him well enough to know that the hurt and the anger hovered just below the surface. “I think you’re the spy in the chain that prevented General Washington’s death.”

“I think you were sent here to distract me,” he continued. When you said nothing he whipped back around, furious. “Well? Do you deny it?”

You swallowed and shook your head.

He crumpled a little, sinking down into his chair. You stood frozen, terrified. Would he have you hanged? imprisoned? banished? Could you let him do that without telling him how you felt?

“George-” you started.

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

“Your majesty,” you said reluctantly. It had taken weeks for him to let you call him George. “my feelings were no fiction.”

He scoffed. “I should have you killed for this treason.”

“I’m sorry.” You hoped that, even if he had you killed, William might make it home. And that Mulligan would have been saved too. “I truly do love you.”

“What would you have me do?” he asked, still not looking at you. “Trust you again only for you to betray me?”

“I’ll leave the revolution,” you promised, though it tore you apart to do it. “I’ll be yours.”

He seemed to think about it. “What assurance would I have of your loyalty?”

“Any you desire,” you promised. Tentatively, you reached out a hand. He stared at it and then, equally hesitant, took it. You let yourself smile a little. Perhaps you could be his. Perhaps you could make him a better man.

Perhaps this was the first step of a new mission.

--

[inyri]

Equivalent Exchange (an SWTOR story: Chapter Nineteen- Bright Spot

Equivalent Exchange by inyri

Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Characters: Female Imperial Agent (Cipher Nine)/Theron Shan Rating: E (this chapter: M) Summary: If one wishes to gain something, one must offer something of equal value. In spycraft, it’s easy. Applying it to a relationship is another matter entirely. F!Agent/Theron Shan. (Spoilers for Shadow of Revan and Knights of the Fallen Empire.)

Comments are always appreciated! If you prefer, you can also visit:

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(Another long chapter. Nearly at the end of the flashbacks now.)

Chapter Nineteen: Bright Spot

16 ATC. Rishi.

Even when Theron hits the ground he doesn’t wake, though he does curl in on himself with a muffled groan as Lana comes running from inside with Jakarro at her heels.

Alive, at least. For a moment as Nine watched him fall she thought that might have been the end of it, that she’d missed something despite the kolto- but no, when she kneels beside him in the dirt, pulls her gloves off to lift his head with clean hands, she can feel his ragged breath on her palms.

“Help me,” she says again, “I can’t lift him by myself.”

Jakarro pushes past Lana and lifts Theron from her arms, scooping him up like he weighs nothing at all. Turning back toward the hut he growls at Lana, long and low and requiring no translation; the noise of it vibrates through the ground beneath her knees and prickles the hair on the back of her neck and only when Jakarro passes back through the open door and out of line of sight of Lana does he stop. Kaliyo, hidden somewhere inside behind the curve of the wall, swears, followed by a loud clattering and something fragile-sounding hitting the ground.

Still on her knees, she rubs her hands against her face, pushing the tension from her temples and the fatigue from her eyes- no time to be tired yet, with far too much to do and only a few hours left with Revan’s trap unsprung. When she looks up again Lana’s staring at her, teeth sunk into her lower lip.

“You’ve got-” Lana gestures to her own face- “here-”

When she glances down her palms are red-smeared, messy, and she can only imagine what her face looks like; she’s usually got a nose for blood but she hadn’t even noticed this time, nostrils still clogged with grenade smoke and speeder exhaust. One of Theron’s injuries must have opened up again when he fell, his blood on her hands from her failed attempt to catch him.

“Theron’s. Not mine.” She shakes her head, rocking back on her heels as she wipes her hands clean on her thighs, stains disappearing against the black of her armor. “A little too on-the-nose, hm?”

Lana starts to answer but seems to think better of it, closing her mouth just as she opens it, so fast that her teeth click audibly. Instead she pulls a cloth from her pocket and dampens it with water from the canteen at her belt, crouches beside her and starts to scrub the blood from her cheeks and forehead, from her eyelids when she closes them again, and when she is finished there she lifts one of her hands and then the other and cleans them too.

There’s still a thin red line along the edge of her left thumbnail when Kaliyo sticks her head out the door. “Hey. You have any adrenal stims left? I want to try something.”

“Yes.” She sighs, pushes herself to her feet as Lana does the same. She’s been kneeling perhaps a minute, likely less, but it feels like an age. “One. Hold on.”

Stars, she’s tired.

(I was saving that adrenal for myself, she says. I knew I wouldn’t have a chance to sleep. But he needed it more than I did.

Lana nods. Theron appreciated it, I know. When he came to Asylum, after he’d quit the SIS, we did talk. Not about what happened, not directly, but- interlacing her fingers, stretching, Lana stifles a yawn. It’s late and she’s talked too much, probably; she never could tell a short story- about you. He felt like he owed you, I think, although I got the impression it was rather more involved than that.

That’s… she chuckles. Involved is one word for it, but that’s getting ahead of ourselves. I do have a question, though.

Hm?

After Jakarro took Theron inside, when you were getting the blood off my face- do you remember what you were going to say?

In profile she can see the corner of Lana’s mouth curve, up and then down, her eyes closing for half a heartbeat before she speaks. Not verbatim, no, but I remember thinking you were wrong about it being literal.

How so?

Lowering her arms from their stretched position, Lana looks down contemplatively at her own fingers. My hands were clean.)

Inside, Theron’s laid out on the table that had held their monitoring equipment, nose bleeding in a trickle that collects in the bow of his upper lip, still semi-conscious despite four empty vials of kolto on the ground nearby as she presses the stim into Kaliyo’s outstretched hand. “You wanted to try something?”

“Yeah. Check his pupils.” Kaliyo opens one of his eyes carefully with the pressure of her index finger on the crease of his eyelid. “Figure the stim might wake him up, at least.”

She looks closer- hm. Constricted, smaller than they should be even when she pulls a light from her pocket and shines it obliquely onto his face. “I don’t think they were like this before. Either Revan’s people gave him something slow-acting, or-” the beam flashes off his temple at the same moment the thought strikes her. “Or he’s got a pain modulator built into his implant and he overclocked it. I tried to dodge the rough trail as much as I could on the way back, but it can’t have been pleasant- he’s got broken ribs and fingers at minimum.”

“You do kind of drive like shit.” Kaliyo flips the cap off the injector. “Should I?”

“Go ahead. It may not help, but all I’ve got is antitoxin and I’m out of ideas.”

Head tilting in agreement, she presses the tip to Theron’s neck and triggers it.

For a few seconds nothing happens. Just when she starts to think nothing’s going to, that even with the kolto and the adrenal it won’t be enough, he gasps, reaches out and grabs for her hand as Kaliyo holds him down against the table with her forearm across the top of his chest.

“Fucking hell-” he gasps again, eyes open, fingers locked around her wrist. “I- what-”

“Thought we’d lost you there for a minute. You passed out, Theron,” she says as he starts to calm and she gestures to Kaliyo to step back. “We’ve got a little kolto left, but until we get back to Raider’s Cove I’d prefer you conscious.”

“‘m awake now.” He grumbles, turning his head to look around the room, at Jakarro packing up their scattered gear and Lana in the doorway, quiet, arms folded across her chest. “I lost focus when you hit that tree root, and then my implant kicked in-” He seems to realize, then, that he’s still holding on to her; he relaxes, right hand dropping to his chest, letting go. “Think I overdid it a little. I haven’t pushed it that hard in a long time.”

She nods. “Understandable. Can you shut it off for now, though?”

“Yeah. I probably should.” Taking a deep breath, Theron closes his eyes for a brief moment, then makes a face and reaches up and across with his right hand, brushing a fingertip across one of the tiny buttons on the surface of his implant. “Although- ow. Okay. It really, really hurts now.”

“You don’t have a medical station in your shuttle, do you?”

He shakes his head, then winces at the movement. “No, but I don’t need it. We don’t have time. We’ve got to deal with Revan first- the fleets-”

“I know. And we wouldn’t have figured any of that out without you, but you’ve done enough.”

“You can cut the debriefing shit, Cipher.” Snappish, Theron tries to sit up again even as she moves her hand to his shoulder, conciliatory and trying to keep him still all at the same time. “I don’t need that, either.”

“Take it from experience: yes, you do. But,” she says, quieter, “that wasn’t what I meant. I was only trying to- just rest, alright? We’ll figure things out back at base but we can’t stay here.”

He looks up at her, then; she can’t tell if he’s angry or exhausted or in pain or all three in shifting combination, the landmarks of his face distorted by swelling and rising bruises and a growing stripe of blood along his cheek and chin. His tone softens. “I- yeah. You’re right. Sorry.”

“Lana?” She turns her head toward the doorway where she’s still lingering, as Lana makes a quiet little noise and Theron, too, turns to see. “Do we have transport back yet? I don’t think the boat’s a good solution this time.”

“I’ve spoken with your Ensign Temple. She’s en route in my own shuttle,” Lana uncrosses her arms, holding out the cleaning-cloth still clutched in one hand with a few steps in her direction until she reaches across to take it, “but it doesn’t have an infirmary either, I’m afraid. Jakarro?”

The Wookiee, too, shakes his head with a muted series of roars as Dee-Four translates.

“Our kolto tank is empty, alas. Jakarro used the last of it to treat his injuries after Rakata Prime, and as he says, we’ve been hiding, not hauling cargo. The market price for a refill was more credits than were available.”

As she listens, she starts to wipe the worst of the blood from Theron’s face; he starts to protest but at her look he quiets and lets her work. When she’s finished, she folds the cloth and pinches his nose, carefully, and he nods, reaches up to hold it and his hand brushes against hers.

He needs proper medical care. The clinic in the Cove is out of the question, of course- too many curious eyes, even this late at night. That only leaves the tank in Nightshrike’s medical bay, which is out of the question, too, or at least it should be. Even under the current circumstances she shouldn’t let an SIS agent anywhere near it and there are things Theron absolutely cannot be allowed to see, but-

He shifts himself on the table, his broken hand holding the edge as he moves the balance of his weight from one side to the other, his teeth sinking hard into his lower lip muting any sound he might have made, and something in her gives way.

Desperate times, as the saying goes. What other choice is there?

She sighs, opens a channel to the ship through all their linked comms. “Vector? Are you there?”

“We read you, Cipher. ” Vector replies. “Raina has already departed in Lord Beniko’s shuttle-” Lana makes a face at that-

(Titles, Lana murmurs amusedly.)

“-with an estimated arrival in approximately ten minutes.”

“Very good. I need you to prep the medical bay and the war room, please. I’ll be bringing Agent Shan shipboard to use our kolto tank while the rest of us plan the next phase of the mission.”

Theron blinks. “I told you, I don’t need-”

She shushes him.

“Agent Shan. As you say, Cipher.” She knows Vector well enough to pick up the hint of doubt in his voice, but he would never have gone against her, not on her ship. “One moment. I’ll speak with Doctor Lokin and-“

He goes quiet. Over the comm there’s a shout, a growl, the hiss of a door closing-

“Vector?”

Nothing.

“Vector. Are you there?”

”You may wish to secure the channel, Cipher.” He finally responds, slightly out of breath. “We must report an issue.”

“An-” Oh, Force, what now? She switches over to their private channel, ignoring Lana’s arched eyebrow and Theron, trying to sit up again, restless and uncomfortable on the table. “I haven’t got time for issues. What is it?”

When he answers back, she can still hear growling in the background and- oh, no. “The medical bay may be unavailable for the next several hours. It would appear that Doctor Lokin is… indisposed.”

She knows the answer to her next question. She has to ask it anyway. “The normal sort, or his particular variety?”

“The latter.”

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, fighting the urge to scream and drive her fist into the nearest wall- of all the Force-damned luck, of all the times for something like this to happen, why now? “Then grab the backup scanner and what supplies you can from the escape pod-” and credits, lots of credits, she thinks, mind racing over possible options before she settles on one- “and the small black box from my bedside table, then lock down the medical bay. I’ll need you at the safehouse when we arrive.”

“As you say. We’ll be there.” The channel clicks over.

When she opens her eyes everyone else is staring at her, Lana and Theron and Kaliyo and Jakarro, with the same questioning expression.

“Plan B,” she says, and starts shoving equipment into the open backpack beneath the table. “We improvise.”

(What exactly did happen? Lana asks.

You… ah. You’re familiar with Doctor Lokin’s unique physiology, yes?

I’ve read his dossier, she says, while we’ve been searching for him recently. He infected himself with rakghoul plague. But-

She nods at Lana. Mostly right. Infected isn’t quite the right word, but he uses a serum to keep the transformation stable. Apparently, one of the ingredients he’d had to source while we were on Rishi was counterfeit, and when he dosed himself with that particular batch- she snaps her fingers. We managed to contain the problem to the lab, but short of caging him there was nothing to do but let it wear off. He was very apologetic afterward.

I would hope so. And you were really going to bring Theron on board your ship?

It was a terrible idea, I know. Intelligence would have had me sent for reeducation for that if I’d still been on the roster officially. But- she shrugs- what else should I have done? You saw him. I couldn’t-

She trails off.

She could have. How many times had she done just that before, left Republic soldiers and agents and informants broken and bleeding and dying in her wake, turned her back and walked away without a single ounce of guilt weighing on the shreds that remained of her conscience? Even when she didn’t, even when it was people she’d worked alongside, it was more out of caprice than obligation: she saved Chance because she isn’t a monster and still turned the turrets on Ardun Kothe with howling savage vengeful joy because he deserved it, damn him, the way he used her. But Theron was-

Theron was something different.

I know, Lana says softly, and she doesn’t know whether she means her last words or her last thought but she’s not sure it matters. I know.)

The little shuttle, meant to hold three or four at most- not six, and certainly not a Wookiee- is terribly cramped on the short flight back to Raider’s Cove. It’s less bumpy and far faster than the boat that carried them over, though, and half an hour later they’re back at the alleyway safehouse.

She sends Kaliyo and Temple back to the ‘shrike. Vector, black eyes glancing cautiously around the safehouse, hands her the supply bag with an apologetic grimace. “Not much to speak of, we’re afraid. We weren’t able to access the medical bay, as you know.”

“It’s fine, Vector.” She shakes out the bag onto the central table as Jakarro starts pulling up maps, projecting them onto the screens along the walls. The scanner, a few doses of painkiller, two more kolto syringes, one patch and no splints and just two rolls of bandages- Theron’s already used twelve and they haven’t even seen to his hand yet. They’ll need more. She palms the little velvet box as it hits the tabletop. “I’ll make a run to the clinic. They’re fussy about Imperial credits, but maybe with better trade they’ll sell in quantity.”

“No.” Theron, propped up on his cot along the back wall, speaks up, pulling a spike from his jacket pocket. “You need to see this. It’s everything I could pull off the terminal in the room where they were holding me: schematics for the jammer, fortification maps, a few messages, maybe even a way to triangulate Revan’s location. We’ve only got a few hours left. I can-” he coughs, presses his lips together into a thin pain-filled line. “I can wait.”

Lana, pacing back and forth with her eyes on the largest map, shakes her head. “You’re still injured, Theron. We’ll need your help with this, and it would be better if-”

He laughs, sharp and bitter, though it trails off abruptly as he flinches again. “It would be better if I wasn’t? Yeah, it would, wouldn’t it?”

Lana’s face barely changes, a faint grief clouding her eyes for the span of a breath before it passes, but then she turns toward her with her hand outstretched. “The rest of you should start planning, then. I’ll go for supplies. Just tell me what I should sell.”

“Take this.” She opens the box, pulls out a necklace on a golden chain, its pendant a Nova ruby the size of her little fingernail. “It ought to be enough, even at black market rates.”

“Cipher, that’s- I can’t-”

It sparkles brilliantly in the lamplight as she lowers it into Lana’s hand, closing her fingers over it. “I’ve been meaning to sell it, and rubies don’t suit me, anyway- they clash with my hair. Now go.”

(Sixty thousand credits’ value. Lana shakes her head in disbelief at the memory. Beautiful. And you gave it away without even thinking.

One of the side benefits of Cipher work- I’ve collected lots of baubles over the years. She shrugs. That one was a gift, though I wasn’t fond of the man who gave it to me. Killed him the next day, actually, so it seemed suitably ironic to trade it for medical supplies.

Still. It was a pretty thing.

If we ever get to go hom- she catches herself. It isn’t home, not anymore- back to Dromund Kaas and my apartment hasn’t been thoroughly looted, I’ll give you the run of my jewel closet. You can have your pick of pretty things. I certainly don’t have much cause to wear them now.

Lana smiles. That’s very- she pauses. Wait. Did you say closet?)

Five hours before the fleets are scheduled to arrive, she loads the last of the maps into her datapad and finishes a third cup of caf, reviewing the jammer schematics one more time for good measure.

His thumb set back in joint and his hand taped and bandaged (the breaks were clean, so far as she can tell from the shitty backup medscanner, and ought to heal well- a mercy. An injury like that, done with more malice, might have crippled him), Theron’s finally stopped trying to get up and is resting quietly on his cot. The whole room’s quiet, really, with Jakarro running decryptions at the console with Vector’s assistance and Lana still not back with the supplies.

She doesn’t mind quiet most days. Tonight- today, past midnight though only barely- it’s unsettling.

“If I leave in an hour,” she says, looking up from the diagram toward Theron, “do you think that’s enough time, or-?”

He’s on his left side, facing toward the wall, and she can see him breathing but he doesn’t answer; she gets up from the table and crouches down beside him.

“Theron?”

He’d better not be unconscious again.

Carefully, she nudges his shoulder; he mutters something unintelligible. Probably not unconscious, then.

“Never mind,” she murmurs. “I’ll let you sleep.”

“-I have a number sixteen, extra crispy? Menu’s ‘n the counter-” Theron gestures vaguely, eyes still closed, at the wall in front of him. “-oh. ’nd a Goodvalor roll. ‘m starving.”

She chuckles softly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“‘kay.” He curls tighter under the thin blanket, eyelids fluttering in dreaming sleep. If she ignores the bruises he looks almost peaceful.

She lays an extra blanket over him and sets a ration bar on the cot before she moves back to the table.

Lana comes back a short while later, two crates on a floating cargo hauler at her side, and immediately starts unloading, handing her a dozen injectors and setting more on the table handful by handful.

“It should be enough, I think.” She shoves the first crate aside to pull the lid off the second. “The negotiations took a little while but I managed just about everything they had. I thought you’d need to take some with you, too.”

“With luck I won’t have to use them, though I’m not counting on luck today.” Grabbing a few stims off the top of the second crate, she tucks two away and shoots the third into her outer thigh. Her heart rate rises, her senses sharpening as the dullness of overfatigue slips away in a familiar chemical rush. “That’ll help, though.”

Lana nods, watching her as she refills her belt pouches before she turns her gaze to Theron. “Is he-”

“Sleeping.”

“Good. I’ll wake him once you make landfall.”

“You two need to talk,” she says. “Maybe not now, but if we make it through this- it won’t work going forward, Lana, not if we can’t trust each other.”

The second create emptied, Lana settles into one of the empty chairs around the table. “I know.”

“I’m not sure you- never mind.” Elbows on the table, she rests her forehead on her folded hands. “Focus on raising the fleets as soon as I can drop the jammer. If we can’t manage that, it’ll all have been for nothing.”

“We’ll manage. Don’t worry.”

When she closes her eyes she can almost read the schematics on the backs of her eyelids. Good. Ready, then. “Theron was right. We do say that a lot.” She looks up. “Vector?”

“Yes, Cipher?”

“Tell SCORPIO to meet me at the shuttle port. I’m heading out.”

She doesn’t bring SCORPIO into the field often. Their partnership was always uneasy, a thing of mutual convenience rather than loyalty (then and now, she says wryly, as Lana nods agreement- she’d mentioned more than once she found the AI disconcerting, but as the Lady of Sorrows the information network SCORPIO had cultivated on Zakuul has proven invaluable), but sometimes it takes a machine to break a machine.

She needs her. The jammer has to come down, and if SCORPIO’s lack of empathy’s sometimes a drawback, well-

Today she’s not in a particularly forgiving mood, either.

The wreckage of the walker smolders beside them as she crawls from behind the shielding panel. Everything hurts- a rocket to the chest knocked her nearly off the platform; she’s going to feel that one tomorrow for sure- and she can barely hear her comm over the screams of the anti-aircraft guns, carefully reprogrammed to target the Revanite ships.

The sky overhead’s filling by the second. The fleets dropped from hyperspace even as she’d fought, already firing on each other, a Republic strike fighter streaking past with engines ablaze-

There’s still time. There has to be.  

“Cipher?” Lana breathes a sigh of relief when she answers. “Is the signal jammer disabled?”

It hurts to breathe- so much for luck. She limps to the controls, SCORPIO at her heels. “Nearly. Tell Theron to start hailing the Republic.”

“Already on it,” he says, voice stronger than when she’d left. “Uploading the files to you, but you should get out of there.”

“I will, just as soon as-”

The machinery powers down as SCORPIO turns from the console, a self-satisfied smirk playing at the corners of her metallic mouth. “I have an open channel to the Imperial flagship. Shall I connect you?”

“Do it.”

She can already hear Theron speaking to someone as the holoprojector activates.

“This is Cipher Nine hailing Imperial vessel Terminus. Come in, Terminus. Do you copy?”

“I am here.” Darth Marr, arms folded, impassive, intimidating as always, fills the projector display and she has to fight the reflexive urge to kneel. “And you are on Rishi. Explain.”

“There are traitors in your fleet, my lord, planted by Revan. He survived the strike on the Foundry and his cult has only grown. Transmitting files now. Have your loyal crew detain them quickly, before any more damage is done.” (She hates my lord, the phrase like ashes on the tip of her tongue. But Darth Zhorrid, for one, had killed for lesser insults than improper deference and she doesn’t know Marr’s temperament well enough to risk it.)

Marr’s head tilts. “Revan is alive?”

“Yes. He wants to destroy both the Empire and the Republic, starting here.”

Looking away for a moment, Marr gestures to someone offscreen. “Power down all weapons, Captain, and signal the rest of the fleet immediately.” He turns back toward her. “Is he here?”

“I don’t know. I don’t believe so, but-”

A second figure appears on the projector beside Marr, a petite human woman in Jedi battle armor, hair in neat plaits framing an ageless face. “Finally, an open line,” the woman says.

She’s seen her before- years and years ago, during the attack on the Brentaal Star. Her name was-

“Grand Master Shan.” Darth Marr inclines his head politely. “It appears we have been set upon each other by your ancestor.”

Grand Master Shan-

Ancestor-

Her eyes go wide before she can help herself, and it takes every bit of self-control she possesses to keep her facial expression otherwise neutral.

“Yes. We were notified by an agent of ours who’s also planetside.”

Complicated, in Theron’s words.

Quite.

When she returns to the safehouse the meeting’s already nearly ended, the room divided neatly down the middle with Lana, Vector and two armored guards flanking Darth Marr and Theron, Jakarro and two Republic soldiers behind the Grand Master.

She tries not to stare, concentrating on the plan, but this close there’s no mistaking the resemblance. He has his mother’s eyes, and when Satele says it again- my agent- she glances in his direction just in time to see his lip curl as he shifts restlessly from foot to foot. The phrase strikes a nerve, clearly.

“It’s agreed, then.” Marr rumbles. “To the fourth moon of Yavin, to end Revan’s plans once and for all.”

“I do hope you’ll join us.” The Grand Master- if she remembers her from past skirmishes she doesn’t show it, her expression pleasant and her tone even- says as she starts to move toward the door, flanked closely by her soldiers. “You’ve done so much already. You should be there to see this through.”

(That was the beginning of it all, wasn’t it? If we’d never gone to Yavin- if we’d known- She trails off into silence, trying to ignore the knot tightening in the center of her chest.

How could we have known?

I don’t know. But I can’t help but think… she turns sideways in her seat, feet tucked beneath her, facing Lana directly. Do you remember what Marr said? About the Emperor?

Lana wrinkles her forehead. About Revan’s plan? I’ll admit I wasn’t entirely paying attention. Between remembering my death warrant, Darth Marr giving away the Empire’s darkest secret without so much as a pause and realizing I’d just let the son of the Grand Master of the Jedi Order be tortured by his own ancestor, I was fairly sure I was about to be murdered rather horribly.  

It was a very calm meeting, all things considered. She flashes her a smile, just for a moment, before the thought overtakes her again and she sobers. He said that Revan thought he could succeed, but that the Emperor would prove too powerful- for Revan, or for anyone else. What if Marr was right?

He wasn’t.

How can we know that? What if-

He wasn’t, Lana says again, rests her hands on her shoulders and her forehead against hers. We won’t let him be.

She closes her eyes. If she keeps thinking hard enough, keeps her mind on other things, she can almost drown him out.)

Their visitors gone and her crew dismissed, she and Lana and Theron and Jakarro all sink into chairs almost simultaneously.

Dee-Four’s the first to speak. “That went surprisingly well, I think.”

“I wasn’t expecting a truce, I agree, and bypassing the Dark Council and the Chancellor was a neat little trick. Combining forces- we may actually have a chance at stopping Revan now. And thanks to Theron, we’ve got a destination.”

Theron glances at her with something like gratitude, nodding agreement. “It definitely could have been worse. It’s refreshing to see the Republic and the Empire working together without stabbing each other in the back.”

Everyone looks at Lana, who crosses her arms defensively and sits up taller. “It was the correct decision. You know that. Everything we learned-”

“And here I thought we could trust each other.” Raising his bandaged hand, Theron gestures around the table. “If I was wrong, I’d like to know that now.”

“At the risk of sounding egotistical,” Lana snarls, chin high, eyes narrowed, “I will not apologize for being right.”

(Oh, stars. Did I really-

Yes, Lana. Yes, you did.)

“I’m not even asking for an apology. I just think-”

“Would you both be quiet?” She drops her hands to the tabletop and in the sudden silence that follows the noise echoes around the little room like a blaster shot. “Theron’s right, Lana. Your plan paid dividends, to be sure, but you do owe him an apology.”

“Not you, too.” Lana’s focus flickers from face to face as they all stare flatly back at her; she sits back with a huff. “I- fine. Theron, I’m sorry. But if you’d been in on the plan, Revan might have been able to detect that.”

He shakes his head. “You think I’ve never been captured before? I know how to resist. My implants-”

“If they’d figured it out,” Lana says, “if you’d slipped, even for a moment, they would have killed you.”

“That’s… it’s not impossible, alright? Never mind.” Slouching down further into his chair, Theron sighs. “So. On to Yavin IV.”

Pushing back from the table, Lana crosses to her cot, lifting her already-packed duffel bag onto one arm. “Yes. We’ll speak further once we’re there, unless there’s something else?”

“I just need to gather my things, but we’ll rendezvous with the Terminus in orbit.” She rolls her shoulders backward, cracks her neck. Lokin had better be out of the medical bay by now- her back aches ferociously and now that it’s quiet her ears are ringing, and a little time in the tank sounds decidedly appealing now that Theron won’t need it; judging from the quick look the Grand Master’d shot him on her way past he’s got a lecture and a trip to the infirmary waiting, probably simultaneously, as soon as he’s off-planet. “I’ll see you aboard, Lana.”

“I’ll wipe the console while you pack,” Theron says, “and I could use a hand with carrying some of this equipment, Cipher, if that’s okay with you.”

There’s something in his voice that makes her nod. “Of course.”

Lana and Jakarro leave, then, and they’re alone, and Theron rests his head in his hand and looks at her through the gaps in his fingers.

“Go ahead. Ask.”

“Ask what?” She gets up, crossing the room to her bedroll and starting to fold it neatly.

“How I’m related to Revan,” he says as his eyes close- he looks better, less bruised and less exhausted. “Now you know. The Grand Master of the Jedi Order is my mother. Thank you for not saying anything, but I assume you’d like an explanation.”

“Of course I do, though I don’t expect one. I was only going to say you promised to tell me the swoop bike racing story-” she grins as he starts to laugh- “but all things considered, maybe you ought to start at the beginning.”

(She pauses. Some of what he said- I know you’re my spymasters, you and Theron, but I don’t want to say more than he wants known. How much do you know about Theron’s childhood?

Very little. Less than you do, I’m sure. He doesn’t talk about it often. His mother gave him up at birth, I know, and they aren’t close, but beyond that? Lana shrugs. Almost nothing.

Not close is an understatement. You know he was raised as a Jedi, yes?

Lana nods. He did mention that. But he isn’t Force-sensitive.

Correct. The Jedi who raised him abandoned him, too- I still don’t know everything that happened. He was largely on his own from what I gather, hence the stint as a swoop racer… he was barely in his teens then. The SIS came later.

What about his father? He must have had someone.

She shakes her head. I don’t know who Theron’s father is. I know he does, but he’s never told me, and I don’t think he met his father until fairly recently. I don’t think his father knew he existed until fairly recently, frankly.

That merits a startled blink from Lana. And Satele didn’t-

She gave him up as a newborn, Lana. She- how old do you think Theron was, the next time he saw his mother?

Force sensitivity almost always manifests by age ten… twelve at the latest. So even if his master waited a few more years- oh, I don’t know. When the Jedi released him, I assume. Fourteen?

She almost hadn’t believed it herself when he told her, but the way he said it, the way his mouth curled around the words- there was no faking that. Twenty-three. He was twenty-three.)

“‘My agent.’ I love it.” Theron rolls his eyes at the memory as he lifts himself back onto the stripped-down cot, the last bits of his toolkit packed away into the case on the floor in front of him before he lifts it onto his lap. He starts to lift his satchel, too, but stops, wincing. “Like it’s a coincidence we share a name. Like that’s a normal way to refer to your own kid.”

“I’ll get your other bag, Theron. Just given me a moment.” She can’t deny he has a point, though, about Satele. “You’ll have time to talk on the way to Yavin. Why don’t you say something to her?”

“I don’t know. I guess I find it more funny than bothersome at this point.” Looking up at her as she drops her own pack at the entrance, his mouth quirks at one corner into a wry little smile. “Why am I even telling you all this? I’ve fed you people so many phony backstories over the years, and here I’m boring you with my entire life story.”

“I’ve been told I have the face of a good listener.” She winks; he rolls his eyes again, though there’s something playful in it this time. “And you weren’t boring me- it’s quite a tale, though I’m afraid I don’t really remember my family so I’ve don’t have much to offer in return.”

Theron nods. “Did something happen to them?”

“I don’t-” she winces. Careful, girl. Almost too close again, there. “I remember what they look like, a little. I was a child when I saw them last, and I- that’s one of the things-” she has to force the words out; she shouldn’t tell him this, but it’s such a little thing and it seems only fair- “we don’t keep.”

“Like your name?”

“Like my name.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “Don’t be. I had a choice.”

“As much as we ever do.” He shifts toward the edge of his cot as she nods in silent agreement. “I’m ready to get out of here whenever you are, by the way.”

“Me too. It’s a shame, really.” She crosses back to sit down on the cot beside him, hauling his other bag up from the floor and looping its strap over her shoulder; everything else beyond the tech equipment he’d brought to Rishi fit into a single satchel. With his ribs still broken she’ll carry hers and his both, at least to the entrance to the docking platform- with the Republic here in earnest she likely won’t be allowed anywhere near his shuttle. Alliances only stretch so far, after all. “Except for the pirate nonsense this planet seemed so nice when I first arrived. Warm weather, friendly natives-”

Theron grins. “Not to mention the delicious food, the cultists, the family bonding torture sessions… zero out of five stars. Would not recommend.”

“Not an ideal vacation spot, I agree.” When she starts to rise the bag’s strap comes unfastened, sliding off her arm and pulling her off-kilter, and she settles back to fix it. “Oof- heavy. What’ve you got in here, bricks?”

“Only a dozen or so. And all your extra ration bars. I might need a snack later, after the kolto tank and the lecture.”

She laughs. He’d had the same thought, clearly. “You can keep them. I’ve got crates of them back on my ship. So the food wasn’t all bad, then- any other bright spots?”

As she speaks he’s reaching across her body to loop the strap back through its buckle, drawing it tight and sliding it up onto her shoulder. “I can think of one,” he says.

It takes her a moment to realize he’s looking at her and not at the buckle- she was watching his hands move on the strap and hadn’t noticed he was working by touch- and his eyes are locked on hers when she shifts her focus and there is something in the way he looks at her that makes her stop short and-

(Well, she says, you can guess. Not how I would have wanted it to happen, but-

What do you mean, not how you wanted it? Lana, brow arching nearly into her hairline, looks at her in confusion. You’d flirted with Theron all along, ever since Manaan, and- forgive me for this, but you’ve never struck me as the type to turn down a lover.

I do have standards, you know. And we only kissed, then.

Her entire face goes pink. That wasn’t what-

I know. She grins. I’m only teasing you, Lana, and I’ve had it said in much ruder ways by people I like far less than you. You’re right. Some other day, some other person, I’d have let him pin me to the wall and walked out with him wrapped around my little finger- Lana blushes even redder at that- but to borrow your phrase, I made a mistake with Theron. It started as a game, but-

Hm?

At some point, she says, we forgot we were playing. On Yavin, especially, but Rishi was the beginning.)

(There are things she does not tell Lana. This is one of those things.)

She almost pushes him away.

In the split second before Theron’s mouth meets hers she knows what’s going to happen and she almost turns her head, almost stops it before it starts, not because she doesn’t want it- she does, so badly it starts warning bells sounding in her mind- but there is no way to do this that isn’t going to hurt, in the end.

There are two ways this game can be played. Masks off, their loyalties laid bare, the first way does not apply to them. There’s no agenda for her to follow here, nothing she needs from him that she doesn’t think he’d give her willingly, and he’s been played enough, his trust a fragile thing. Pushing it further, asking even more- it would have been a cruelty beyond her capacity.

The second way is, at best, a brief bliss. This truce won’t hold forever and at the end of it they’ll be on opposite sides, enemies. But for today-

But today he kisses her, lips parted and hand still on her shoulder and body leaning into hers, eager, and she doesn’t care.

Theron tastes of caf and kolto and copper-bright blood, her tongue glancing along the cut on his lip as they shift together, awkward and fumbling as the cot tips precariously under too much weight on its edge; her hand comes up, brushing along his cheek until her fingertips glance over a still-livid bruise and he flinches and goes still.  

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and means it. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. I mean-” when she moves she hits another sore spot and he breathes in, sharp and quick, but doesn’t draw back- “a little, yeah, but-”  He catches her hand with his unbandaged one, laces his fingers through hers as they come to rest along her neck and pulls her back in close, a soft hitch in his voice that hits her at the core like lightning. “I don’t care-”

And then they are lost, for a short shining moment, lost in kisses and the brush of fingertips on skin and the gasping little noises they make against each other’s mouths, hands starting to seek out the edges of clothing. Theron’s satchel digs into her back as she leans into the wall, his weight settling against her.

(It was no grand story, this thing of theirs, at its beginning- no birds singing with the sunrise, none of the sweetness of a romance vid or a children’s story. It was something harder, born of adrenaline and probably a little spite and under it all pure visceral want- an implosion grenade, two bodies together at the center of a swirling disaster with only the contact between them keeping the world from collapsing in on itself-

Or a better analogy, perhaps: the vortex above a sinking ship, too many near-misses and near-deaths and more still coming, dragging them down into cold and darkness. They cannot get clear of it- it’s far too late for that- so when it starts to pull the only thing to do is fill one’s lungs and fight toward the surface, toward light and heat.

And ah, stars, he is bright, then and now, and it took her far too long to realize that she was the same for him.)

Outside, in the alley, someone shouts and she and Theron both startle, looking to the entrance.

“Is that-” he tries to push himself up, but his good hand’s behind her, caught in her hair and the collar of her jacket- “damn it, that had better not be-”

“Just outside, I think,” she pants, bracing herself against the wall so he can move. “We’re okay.”

Theron nods. “We’re… yeah.” He looks at her, then, as they both struggle upright, both flushed and breathless and rumpled. “Force. I’m sorr-”

She presses two fingers to his mouth before he can finish the thought; he kisses them, unthinking, and she grins as he starts to apologize again. “Don’t. Am I complaining?”

“No.” He returns her grin as she lowers her hand. “No, you aren’t.”

“Then-” she hooks the collar of his undershirt, pulls him toward her- “shut up and-”

Her comm rings. Though she silences it- only someone shipboard, probably wondering where she is- when she looks up again the moment’s passed.

“We should probably go,” Theron says with a sigh, untangling from her, starting to stand. “I need to catch the fleet before it jumps to hyperspace, and I assume you do, too.”

“I do. Though I can think of a few things I’d rather be doing.” She rises, too, lifting his bag along with her, her voice wrapped low and sly around the words to mask her frustration, which is a problem- for fuck’s sake, he’s the Grand Master’s son, what is she doing-

‘You and me both.” He turns toward her, and as she lifts the satchel onto her shoulder he reaches out, one more time, to adjust the strap.

If they brush against each other every so often as they walk through the market they blame it on healing injuries and heavy bags. As she expected, there are guards now, posted both on Nightshrike and on Theron’s shuttle, and the armored figures on both sides stand at attention as they approach.

“I’ll see you when we get to Yavin. I’m sure we’ll have things to catch up on by then,” she murmurs as she hands him the bag, quiet enough the trooper guarding his shuttle can’t hear.

“I can think of a few.”

Author’s note:

The voodoo worked, apparently.

Apologies for the long delay. I should be back on a biweekly schedule now, but I had a few distractions last month, some of which might be relevant to your interests… (I’m on the right, of course. You may, perhaps, recognize the other person in the picture.)

Up next: A Brief Bliss,  Yavin IV and the end of the beginning.

[quietbreeze97]

Faithless [Reverse Falls] [WillFord]

This story takes place in the Reverse Falls AU. I do not own this AU and I don't claim to. Enjoy some WillFord. ;)

Warning: Rated M for mild sexual themes, but nothing explicit. 

AO3

FanFiction

Will thought that, after all this time, he would be used to the chains by now. But he still couldn't tolerate the pain in his wrists from the chafing manacles, attaching him to the wall, making even the smallest movement an ordeal. Regardless, he didn't have the strength nor the willpower to complain, or try and fight against his imprisonment. There were only tears, falling silently down his blue frame, perhaps to get a sympathetic soul to help him. Why did he ever think that would work?

Even he didn't listen. The person he once trusted more than anyone. There were times he would just sit and watch, smiling at the power he had over his prisoner, as well as the power Will had now lost. It seemed to amuse him – his agony; his helplessness. There were also times he would actually touch him; run his fingers along his sides, his mouth briefly brushing against the hands made immobile by the shackles. Despite everything; despite how much he should hate the man… he wanted to touch him back. More than anything. If his hands were free he would run them through his thick hair, entangling his fingers within it, and trail them along his skin. Everywhere visible: his cheeks, his chin, his shoulders, and he would move underneath the clothes if he could, touching all the places he wasn't allowed to glimpse.

But sadly, he was under an impenetrable spell, and he was not the one in control. He could only think, not act, and simply accept the attention he'd receive on an occasional basis. He admitted he loved it, and craved it more and more each time. But he hated himself for it.

He's a liar and a traitor.

These words screamed at him every time he felt his captor's icy gaze or his gentle touch.

But… I…

He didn't know. He just couldn't stop feeling the way he did, so intensely. All he wanted was to be touched by him, and recent events had certainly not changed that. How stupid he was for it.

"So, Will." Stanford suddenly said.

He's talking.

The chains rattled as the blue demon quivered in surprise, his eye wide with attention as he looked up. Stanford was examining his hands, not moving from his chair. His features were lit up by the orange glow of the fireplace.

"It seems you're going to be here for a while. And I'm wondering… what I should do about that."

Will's entire frame tensed up. He's going to kill me. He thought. He's going to smash me to pieces.

Or maybe he'll keep me.

When Stanford suddenly rose from his seat, Will's fists dug into his palms, not stopping as he approached him. The magician's hands went behind his back as he looked at his prisoner from a small distance. He wasn't as close as he often was. Perhaps he was taunting him. Perhaps he knew how desperately Will longed for the space between them to close.

"What do you think I should do?" Ford asked, his tone cold.

He had to speak. He wouldn't cry, even though he felt tears brimming up. Don't let your shield down. You mustn't.

The silence was excruciating as he searched for a response, the emptiness inside him feeling lighter than ever. "I… I don't want you to…" His voice cracked with the threat of a sob. "Please just don't-"

"Oh, no need to worry. I don't plan on hurting you."

He doesn't? Will found himself almost pleasantly surprised. But he could be lying. Remember what he's already done to you.

"Don't look so shocked," he said with a small laugh. "The twins gave you the wrong impression entirely. I'm not like them. I only wish to protect you."

Will studied the look on his face, to see whether it was a genuine expression, or something to cover up a lie. "R-really?" he found himself asking, his voice trembling.

"You don't believe me." Ford's voice was suddenly low, almost aggressive, and he finally moved closer in a few slow steps. His forefinger gently traced Will's bow-tie, examining it like artistry with his eagle-like eyes, and Will could barely contain a shudder. "Maybe you don't know me at all," he suggested, his interested gaze not leaving his lower side. "But don't fret. I can change that soon enough."

Despite his non-physical form, Will felt incredible heat build on his surface. His wrists suddenly felt clammy under the manacles. He shouldn't feel these feelings – these feelings that were so eerily human. The fingers brushing against his vulnerable surface were not making it easy to ignore them.

"You think I just want you for your power, Cipher?"

Will's single eye was fixed hazily on Ford's hand as he paused in his movements. He seemed to barely hear his question.

"That was the plan, yes," Ford continued, his fingers moving around his sharp corners now, but gently, as if the smallest movement would break something. "And there's no doubt your powers are something great, so please don't think I am done asking you for favours. There are none with capabilities like you, Will. Understand I require much of it."

With a sudden jerking movement that startled a whimper out of the demon, he grabbed the chain holding the left arm in place, making the entire body rattle. "But what you don't understand is that my uses for you go beyond just power. Circumstances have changed, as have I. Have you noticed that, Will?"

Maybe? I don't know.

Will wanted to voice his thoughts, but he found himself unable, mostly out of fear. Unpredictability meant he could end up with a knife in his side at any moment, so for his own safety, he replied with silence.

"You and I are similar, aren't we?" His gaze was intense, right on Will's eye. He seemed to assume the demon was never going to answer his questions so he continued to talk. "I'm happy we found each other, despite what you might think."

"I don't think anything."

Will breathed in sharply, realising those words had actually come out of him and not only been a thought. If he had a lip to bite to keep himself quiet, he would have done it.

"You're still so loyal," Ford said, with a soft laugh. "I admire that."

The grip he had on his manacles loosened, becoming almost tender as his fingers moved around his wrists. Then a click suddenly sounded.

Will felt unbelievable relief spreading across his limbs, like a weight had been lifted. His hands were free. He could move around in the air, not that he dared to move too far, with the eyes of Stanford never leaving him. But... he was free. He'd freed him.

"You don't need those anymore," Ford pointed out, perhaps with kindness. "I feel we can trust each other now."

Will listened vaguely, but he was mostly focused on his wrists, no longer baring the manacles he had become so used to. He massaged the black skin, realising how much they had been burning him all this time. The release of the pain was such an alien feeling to him. He met Ford's gaze. That searing gaze that had been with him for days he had lost track of.

Free hands.

Free movement.

He could… if he wanted to… if he would let him…

"Thank you," he stammered gratefully, keeping his thoughts to himself for the time being.

"I said I wanted you for purposes other than your power, Will. I wasn't lying."

In a flurry of shocked gasps, Will found himself being dragged downwards by strong hands, bringing him directly in front of Ford, only a few centimetres away from his face. The man was cradling him by his sides, an almost predatory expression in his eyes as he held his perplexed stare. Will could feel his breath on his surface he was so close.

Then he said in a delicate whisper, "I think we both know what I want you for now."

Those words along with the feeling of his warm hands sent Will's mind, and heart, if he had one, racing. The urge to touch him was overwhelming. He was right there. He could if he wanted to. And he did want to. He needed to, more than anything. There was no reason why he wouldn't be allowed, if Stanford was suggesting what he thought he was suggesting.

What remained of his rational side told him not to be so trusting. He was only going to use him, distract him with what he wanted, then toss him aside like a doll that had served its purpose.

But what if he won't? What if he's changed?

He barely had time to argue with himself, however, because Ford was pulling him closer. He couldn't help himself… he just… couldn't…

He felt his hidden lips take shape, a withheld breath escaping him in the form of a moan, and they were touching. And touching. And touching more. Will felt him all over; his hair, his body, his mouth. He felt as though he were about to cry again, but not out of sadness. This time, he felt tearful for the opposite reasons.

He wants me. Just me.

His tongue was warm as he explored him.

He's going to keep me.

I want him to keep me.

His teeth were sharp as he bit down on the sensitive areas.

Because I want him so much.

He'll protect me and he'll love me.

Buttons and ties were slowly being undone.

For me.

Everything he told me was a lie.

Will could barely keep the tears back as pain started to take over.

What we did… What we became… It didn't mean anything, did it?

Instead of shackles, he now had to tolerate hands digging into his skin, holding his body up like a circus animal on display. He would have traded this for the chains in an instant.

Why isn't he here for me? Protecting me?

Older hands caressing him had been replaced by younger hands torturing him. The knives were back, dancing around his eye, swiping across his blue surface to create black lines that stung like nettles.

He told me I'd never see them again.

They were laughing. They were enjoying his fear, his panic, his pain.

"Give up yet, Cipher?" the girl asked gleefully. Like the Gleeful she was.

The tears weren't visible, but they would be soon. He felt his power ebbing away as they drained it from him.

It's not yours. It's not yours! Leave me alone! Please!

"I'm not like them. I only wish to protect you."

You lied to me. I worshipped you and loved you with everything I had and you LIED to me.

Will Cipher would never trust again. Will Cipher would never love again. But he would always feel pain. It was the only thing that made him sure he was still alive.

As Mabel's knife rammed into his arm, and Dipper's hands drew out everything he possessed with one simple motion, he accepted it all. For he knew was living; at least for now.

I hope you enjoyed my first Reverse Falls story! I’m suddenly in love with this AU and WillFord, and I was dying to write something angsty for it. Hopefully I’ll write more stuff like this in future. ;)

[wallpaperpainter]

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