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bulletproofscales · 3 years

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how to train your hybrid, sorta

hello!!! as an apology for not having a chapter to upload this last friday, celebration for ptd release, and argentina winning the american cup (🥳) . a collab friend and i are bringing you this yoonkook one shot! enjoy <3

tags: catboy yoongi , double weight gain , establish feedee jungkook , fat jungkook , fluff no plot , yoongi is very spoiled and jungkook does not in fact know how to train a hybrid , stuffing , liquid stuffing (?is that a thing?) , gainer yoongi , sub trianing gone wrong?

2.4k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32503474

Jungkook was prepared. He wanted to be a good owner, he had prepared. Researched into healthy environments to make the transitions easier for a hybrid to adapt. Looking into everything from litter boxes, to toys, to mattress textures, scent transitions, and clothes and collars. And went to the refuge determined and hyping himself that he is READY.

He was absolutely not ready.

He chose a sweet, tiny hybrid with fluffy ears. He was half… no, a third of the size as Jungkook. Not that it was a fair comparison. Most people were a third or at least half of Jungkook's size. But this hybrid was honestly miniscule; it wasn't just Jungkook being fat.

His name was Yoongi, a cat hybrid about his age, with black hair and fur, and big curious eyes that stared at Jungkook as they held hands walking towards the human's car; which Jungkook had begun to outgrow just recently…

Jungkook’s face was flushed when they finally arrived at his car. “Well, you can get in the back.” Yoongi nods softly, wide eyes trying to figure out how the door works. He’s only seen cages, really. The human watches, amused.

"Like this." He opens the door for him and Yoongi's eyes widen a bit, staring at Jungkook as if he had done something magical; before eagerly crawling inside. The second he closed the door, the kitten's ears would flatten in fear. Jungkook will come to find, Yoongi will need a lot of reassurance to not fear his possible abandonment.

He gets in the front, taking them home with ease. Yoongi’s enamoured. He looks around, staring at all the lights that blink around him.

And from then on, one could say Yoongi adapted easily to life outside of the refuge, a small family with Jungkook as his doting owner. He took all the measures he had researched about, from familiarizing Yoongi to his scent, to picking out blankets and clothes that were friendly to sensitive hybrid skin, being gradual with his touches as to give the hybrid the space he needed. But it seemed like none of that was necessary, because Yoongi adapted amazingly; curious but relaxedly getting to know Jungkook’s apartment, loving and seeking the attention from his owner.

If anything, it was Jungkook the one struggling to adapt to the kitten...and his stamina

Jungkook would be relaxing on the bed, body soft. Jungkook never really closed doors anymore, since yoongi would just sit, meowing in front of it. Since… he didn’t really understand how it opened

And Yoongi's meowing could only mean one thing. He wants to play.

Jungkook really didn't consider that the cat hybrid he adopted would be anything but cuddly and peaceful. Let alone having to stand up from where he was laying down with a tired huff, and waddling over to the living room where he would play with Yoongi. Reminding himself that it wasn't advised to neglect your hybrd while still in the beginning of forming a bond with them.

Jungkook would pant pathetically, face red and sweaty, waving the little string-like toy for Yoongi to catch. He'd plop himself down tiredly on the couch, but it was futile to be a play buddy that way; Yoongi's whines always forcing him back to stand.

Jungkook grunts as he sits back down, panting more and spreading his thighs. Yoongi looked up at him curiously, staring , surprised at how red Jungkook got. But he still whined, begging for more play. Jungkook would listen of course... the tiny kitten pleading so sweetly that Jungkook would rather lose at least ten kilos than none.

Well, perhaps that was an exaggeration.

As his heart dropped to the floor when he realized he had lost almost 5 kilos in this month he had Yoongi. And realize something had to change. Of course 5 kilos didn't look like any difference on a body this big, but what was going to become of him if he kept this rhythm up?!

It was time to try and finally train his kitten.

Jungkook sat in the bed, Yoongi whining on the floor next to him. “Play...” He pouts, squirming and tail whipping behind him. “Ma-master, play…”

He had to clench his chubby fists to try and control himself from giving in, Yoongi's eyes wide and bottom lip puckered out, sat kneeling with his bum on the floor and thighs spread. Black tail swinging behind him, predatory almost; if it wasn't for how far he was from looking threatening.

"Yoonie, it's getting late, it's not play time." The kitten's frown deepened, and was about to open his mouth to complain again, but Jungkook acted quickly and perhaps recklessly. Grabbing from the cookies he had been snacking on, bringing one to Yoongi's lips. "Here you get a treat for resting when you're supposed to."

It would be the first human food Yoongi had ever tasted.

He gasps, feeling the sweet flavour on his tongue. It’s amazing… it sends shocks to his tail and ears that makes him spasm. Jungkook smiles, watching Yoongi nod quickly and climb onto the bed, curling to his side and nibbling on the cookie.

“Good boy. It’s rest time, okay?”

And... Jungkook didn't mean ifor it to get out of hand okay? But after that, Yoongi started behaving, settling down; but always with the condition that he'd get a prize in return. Which could only be whatever human food Jungkook had at his grasp at that moment.

It was fine at first with things like snacks and cookies because they are different from the actual meals Jungkook ate while Yoongi sat next to him eating his hybrid food.

But once he got a taste of Jungkook's pizza that one time, it was when it really got out of hand. Since he'd start begging Jungkook to cut the hybrid food and start feeding him the food he ate!

Jungkook would smile softly, agreeing with his sweet boy; unaware of what it would cause. “Of course angel…” Yoongi began eating with Jungkook, giving him the full meals that his owner had. The food tasted so much better than hybrid food.

Jungkook didn’t really notice the changes to Yoongi’s body - focusing on how much calmer he appeared to be. Instead of begging to play, the hybrid would climb up next to his owner, cuddling his fattened side and nuzzling into his neck. Rubbing his nose gently over the soft skin. Scenting him, Jungkook had researched. As the kitten tried to envelope as much of his large body in a hug, leg sinking gently over his stomach and torso pressed against his thigh.

And Jungkook is so big, of course it would be hard to register any changes in his hybrid’s body . Any amount of weight gain looked small in comparison to him.

But it wasn't only that, Yoongi's habits began to morph in the image of Jungkook's. The overeating, the napping, the bloating. It became a daily routine that after lunch Yoongi would sit himself on Jungkook's lap, stomach rounded out and protruding outwards in what Jungkook assumed was only a bloat, and he'd rub the sting away. With a completely relaxed and melted hybrid lying across his chest.

Yoongi would purr so loudly that he’d become a little hazy, cooing softly at Jungkook's softness and softer touches "I like this" He'd mumble in a low voice. His vocabulary having expanded since he started living with Jungkook.

"It gets less uncomfy the more you do it." Jungkook comments before grinning. "And you've been overeating a lot lately, kitten" he mumbles fondly before kissing the side of the hybrid's head.

Yoongi giggles softly, nuzzling closer and ignoring what Jungkook said. He understands almost everything, but some things were better left unexplained.

Yoongi purrs, blissed by the sheer softness and Jungkook smiles. “Maybe you’ve been extra good.”

Yoongi's ears perk up. “Treat? Do I get a treat?”

"Wasn't I just rubbing your belly from overeating?" He raises a questioning eyebrow.

"....But you said I've been extra good." He was getting more clever these days. Even if it only happened when it was convenient to the kitten.

And by this point, Jungkook had given up all resistance. Spoiling his kitten, grinning as he hand fed the candybar to Yoongi. Who was more than happy to eat, practically melting on Jungkook's lap.

This routine continues, every night, stuffing his body to the limit and feeling nothing but relaxed joy when his owner would snuggle into him. Cuddling together every time Jungkook wasn’t working, or that they weren't eating. He feels embarrassed it took him this long to notice...

He had fattened up his hybrid.

It was like he was seeing it for the first time when he walked out from sleeping with clothes that barely clung to his body. Shirt worn like a tank top, belly overspilling from underneath; shorts cutting low into his plush hips, and that hugged his legs uncomfortably.

How did he not notice sooner?

Jungkook gave him some of his own clothes and that would suffice. He still swam in those.

He swam in them for now.

His owner was far from making him exercise. They both loved eating and Yoongi’s appetite was only growing. Jungkook pets Yoongi's hair lovingly, smiling softly as the smaller one purred happily; watching yoongi’s fattier tail lull lazily side to side.

Everything about him had become lazy. The kitten spent most of his days sprawled on Jungkook's bed, the sunlight hitting just right for him to stay there. Only getting up to eat or to cuddle alongside his master.

Even if it was accidental, Jungkook can't say he minds this transformed version of his once hyperactive kitty. So lovingly cuddling on his lap, bellies pressed together, chubby arms wrapped around each other, as Jungkook massaged the base of Yoongi's tail; making the hybrid melt.

Yoongi wouldn’t ask to play anymore instead, asking for more snacks. He really couldn’t be bothered to think of playing anymore. He was so lazy.

"What's that?" He heard a voice behind him in the kitchen, and Jungkook didn't have to turn to know. He was just pouring some of the heavy cream into his own cup, grinning as he looks over his shoulder.

"Heavy cream, Yoonie. Why?" He knows exactly why. But he wants to hear the kitten ask for it.

Yoongi's hands are wrapped around the black tail, pressing it to his chest as if guilty. "Can.... I have some?"

Ah, perfect. "Why are you suddenly interested? I don't remember ever giving you some." He questions as he pours more of the thick liquid into his own cup.

"I mistook it...for milk....but it was better! "

Jungkook laughs, leaning to get Yoongi his own cup. “Come here kitten, There’s only a few drops left.” He pours barely a splash, giving the cup to Yoongi.

He takes it happily, gulping the very small amount down in a mouthful. And widens as if it were the first time trying it all over again. Beaming and licking at his lips eagerly mewling at the flavor. Hands into fists from how good it was. "Aw, you really liked it, didn't you?" Jungkook is too endeared, heavy hand cradling through Yoongi's soft hair.

He coos as Yoongi nods quickly, smiling and giggling. “Can I have more?”

“Baby there’s no more.” Jungkook smiles, drinking from his own cup.

Yoongi’s smile turns into a pout, chubby frame deflating, before it perks up again.... looking at Jungkook's glass.

"Can I have some of yours?" He rephrases and Jungkook feels himself grip a little tighter into his glass.

“No kitten...” Jungkook smiled weakly, resolve weakening. “I’m not giving you my cream.”

Yoongi giggles softly, reaching for the glass greedily. “Master~~ please, please?”

"Y-yah you should've told me you wanted before I poured a glass." He complains softly yerking the glass away from the soft hand from the kitten trying to snatch it away. Jungkook is lucky the gluttony slowed down any fo Yoongi's remaining hunting instincts.

"But you could share!!"

“I already shared, piggy.” Jungkook laughs and Yoongi freezes. He doesn’t know what piggy means so he tilts his head.

“Master… I want it” Yoongi pouts again and Jungkook sighs. He gives the plump kitten the cup.

Spoiled, spoiled pet. Jungkook thinks to himself, as Yoongi's eyes lift up. "You should be careful, though." He says as the cat was already excitedly bringing the tall glass to his lips. "This could settle pretty heavily on you if you're not used to it." He says but it looks like the kitten won't listen.

Yoongi gulps it greedily, groaning happily behind each mouthful.

“Baby, slow down.” He chuckles, soothing his hair and kissing his nose. “It’s heavy cream. It’s going to feel gross for a bit.”

Yoongi shakes his head in disagreement "Not gross! Yummy!" He says before taking another gulp. And Jungkook can only sigh, as he sees the kitten gasp for air before setting the glass down.

The heavy cream settling in, just like Jungkook predicted.

Yoongi whines sweetly, pouting up at Jungkook with cream around his upper lip. “…W-why so full?” He pushes up closer - bloated belly in need of attention.

Jungkook chuckles.

"You should have listened, kitten." He scolds but it has no bite to it, how could it with Jungkook's loving tone and the way he wraps his arms around the hybrid? Pressing Yoongi close to his side, as the hand rubs at the side of his belly. "Let's get you to the couch, yeah?"

Yoongi nods pathetically, staring softly up at Jungkook as they both waddle slowly to the couch. He knows how fast Yoongi's appetite appears again. So now snacks are stocked all over the house… like before, just in high quantities.

He isn’t eating alone anymore.

Jungkook tried to lay him down gently, but neither his or Yoongi's weight would allow that. They plop down onto the couch and while Jungkook is used to it, the cat hybrid whines, cupping his full rounded belly in discomfort. "R-rubs, I need rubs" He mumbles weakly.

And like most times, Jungkook is quick and happy to comply, cooing softly. “You’re very full, kitty. You’re so so cute.”

Yoongi's eyes close, eyebrows scrunched upwards cutely, as he nuzzles further towards Jungkook. Tail curling over to "hug" the bigger man as well. "That's it, Yoonie. You drank it all! You're turning into a bit of a piggy aren't you?

Yoongi doesn’t understand, giggling softly and just nodding. He purrs happily, nuzzling into his neck.

#yoonkook #fluff no plot #stuffing #hybrids #double gaining #mutual gaining #cat boy yoongi #fat jeon jungkook #gainer min yoongi #spoiled yoongi #sub training gone wrong

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fgfluidity · 4 years

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mirror | manor (part five)

Summary: After the events of Mirror | Void, a newly-christened Dark has two goals: take revenge on Mark, and, hopefully…

Find the DA.

Pairings: Implied but can be read as gen. [Damien/Dark x DA; Actor x DA]

Warnings: none in this chapter

Messing with Mark is so satisfying.

Dark isn’t sure whether or not Mark understands that it’s him, the villain he wanted and created finally come back to haunt him; if he’s aware, he’s every bit the actor he always was.

He grows twitchy when the aura fills his recording room, shivers and looks into the corners, already-vacated by a quick hop into the void. As an entertainer, he plays it up for the audience’s sake; he still double checks when the camera is off.

It seems his aura has an adverse effect on technology. If he shows up during a recording— a favorite, really— Mark’s frustration at corrupted footage, glitching games and hardware, is nearly as sweet as the anxiety.

He always hated redoing things. Even the most minor of setbacks often triggered some kind of dramatic fit, and this is no exception.

His next takes are so short-tempered.

Sometimes, when Mark isn’t at the computer, when he’s feeling particularly devious and petty, Dark takes the controls.

Plays a horror game. Plays an innocuous game.

Plays up just how not-Mark he is, allows his aura and undead state to intensify his stares, his sharp smiles, his ability to remain motionless.

Who needs visual effects when the power to warp reality is at your fingertips?

He isn’t good at games, necessarily. He’s joined the occasional round in the manor in the name of companionship and to stop the whining when he refuses, but he’s nowhere near skilled.

That doesn’t matter.

What matters is the videos he uploads make Mark uneasy. They make his viewers uneasy.

There are questions and fear and concern, and Mark attempts to assuage their worries.

He’s just playing tricks on them.

He’s just having his fun.

This person you think exists, this Darkiplier— he isn’t sure whether to be impressed at the accuracy of the first half or supremely offended at the latter— is just something you made up.

Nothing to see here.

Little of it works.

Granted, most believe it to be a bit, but it’s incessant and impossible to stop with words or actions. The idea of Darkiplier has caught and spread like wildfire, and the more he’s asked, the more agitated Mark grows.

It’s an interesting thing, though, that he feels all the stronger for it.

Dark’s plan is to kill Mark eventually, yes, but this is fun in itself.

He can’t do this irritation often, though.

They got the studio, thankfully despite his immediate and surprising departure. Wilford’s show seems to be the biggest hit thus far, with his cheerful and eccentric personality, but all is going well.

Dark’s oversight is necessary to keep it running as smoothly as it does, however.

Casualties and damages go down when he’s around, is the thing. God knows lawyer fees are a bitch, and they may be pulling in more money, but not enough to stay in the black if they have to pay that much.

Lawyers aren’t swayed by him.

(Were they ever? They never let us get away with anything.)

He’d prefer even fewer incidents, if he can help it, but he can only manage so much at once. God, but he needs another producer.

He takes out that stress on Mark, and things go well.

Once, though, he’s careless.

Too brave, from all of his successes. Cocky and enjoying Mark’s distress.

Mark turns quickly, faster than he can slip away.

His eyes widen, and he begins to shake, and he screams. “No, no, please—“ as the cold, dark static creeps around him. A free hand, in a panic, scrambles for the surface of his desk, as if to find some weapon. His fingers brush the keyboard.

And he hits a button.

And immediately relaxes.

An actor to the end.

“Damien,” he all-but purrs, a grin crossing his face. “It’s been so, so long! How have you been?”

“Thriving,” Dark intones, dryly. He can say one thing for Mark: he can’t tell if this easy confidence is born of his fear or born of his knowledge. Either way, it’s convincing, if irritating. “No thanks to you.”

Mark huffs, all false indignation. “I gave you an opportunity for a big, big role, and this is how you repay me?”

He sits up, rises from his seat. “I should thank you, though, actually. All of your little machinations—“ and Mark says this mockingly, lifting his hands to wiggle, “— have actually helped me out. People love a good story— what did I tell you? You’re such a good villain.”

“Stories end.” Dark rolls his neck. It’s the only thing keeping him from snapping Mark’s. “How’d you find your mirror, snake?”

To his surprise, Mark only grins wider. “I didn’t,” he replies, “but I didn’t need to. I got what I needed. Just had to be patient.”

Discomfort swirls in his gut. In an effort to keep it under wraps, Dark says, “So you bought a few new ones of your own. I never thought you’d take my advice, but—“

“Oh, come, now. Do you really think I just wanted a mirror?” Mark scoffs, crossing his arms. “A story is not complete with a Hero and a Villain. I needed more. It has to be the best, and I think—“

He tilts his head to the side, as if listening, and his smile widens ever further. “I think I have the perfect cast.”

There are steps outside. A knock on the door. Tentative little taps, a pattern that he remembers.

His entire body freezes, the sound spreading ice through his veins. No. No, it couldn’t possibly be— and anyone else shouldn’t see him.

The voice in his head—

what-

His head spins as the door pushes inward.

Someone steps through, eyes downcast, focused on a phone.

Modern clothing. Slightly different hair.

Same body shape. Same face, same coloring.

(They’re— they’re alive!)

His ears ring, and the DA stumbles, face twisting in confusion, in discomfort.

He hurts.

He hurts. He is everywhere and nowhere and he hurts .

He just catches Mark’s concerned face, hands reaching out for the DA as if to catch them, before he enters the void.

#fg writes #ego fanfiction #darkiplier #mirror manor #other markiplier egos #y/n district attorney #actor mark #dark x da

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nozomijoestar · 3 years

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I used to have this story exclusively on my Ao3 but since I deleted that last December its taken me months to feel any rhythm of comfort uploading writing online again be it original or not; so I’m finally planning to reupload stuff I saved that isn’t already tagged here

Originally written under ‘Start and Start Again’ for She-Ra Fluff Bang 2020 and my first standalone novella length thing at 10k

The journey of Catra’s ever changing life begins with one step forward

It started as a bump on her stomach. A mild thing no bigger than her fist. Yet it stuck out the way the crown piece of a treasure hoard shines. Catra stumbled backwards; gripped the sink to keep her balance. She stared deeper into the full length mirror. The bump remained, had it gotten taller in this light? It was smooth to the touch or rather as smooth as fur could be. The softness of her was something to take great pride in. Anyone who assumed her messy were proven dead wrong. Now wasn't the time for petty thinking however.

Catra sank to the floor still clutching her stomach. She felt it join as part of her, this new thing, and if she strained her ears she just knew it had a heartbeat. A child. Adora's- no their child. She has to swallow to not shout 'Holy Shit!!!' at the top of her lungs. Instead it makes her bite her lip until blood trickles. Catra winces then recovers; she stands and runs water to splash on her face. The woman staring back in the vanity mirror is smiling under the wet bangs sticking to her forehead; smiling like an idiot now disheveled. She pivots and bolts out the bathroom yelling.

"Hey Adora! Adora come over here!"

"Catra? What's going on this early?"

She dashed around the sofa through the living room to find Adora rubbing her eyes and slinking out of bed. She heard her mumble already about waking ahead of schedule; it made her try not to roll her eyes. Of course she'd fixate on that right out of sleep. Before she let her get in another word Catra stopped in front of her. She grabbed Adora's hand and pressed it to her stomach. A lopsided grin was all she could muster for a reply. It took a few seconds, then Adora's eyes went wide. She saw her stare at the bump with such reverence Catra felt tears fall.

"You're...we're..."

"I know."

Adora pulled her down into a hug so tight Catra had to tap her to ease it.

"I'm gonna be a parent...Catra you're gonna be a parent! It's, it's real. It's actually happening."

"Told ya it'd work out."

Then Adora sucked in a huge breath and went rigid gawking at the ground.

"Oh my god I'm gonna be someone's mom. I dunno the first thing about babies! Catra who do we even ask-"

"Um, all of Bright Moon and our friends? They already know we're trying did'ja think they'd ditch us now?"

"No! No of course not. It's just this is actually happening. What if I mess it up already and something goes wrong o-or they come and don't like me- can babies think their mom is lame before they're born? What if-"

"Adora. Do you still want a baby?"

"Yes. More than anything. Sorry I know I'm being-"

"Hey. That's all you need; someone like you is gonna do fine. So stop or you'll give yourself a heart attack before the kid's even here."

Catra sat beside her and rubbed circles on her back. A sigh filled the room when Adora leaned her head on Catra's shoulder. She planted a kiss in her hair and wrapped an arm around her.

"...I wouldn't have my kid with someone I knew'd be shit at it. Or to me. You're you Adora, I didn't choose anyone else."

"I know I know. We're nothing like Sha-"

For an instant something stops Adora as if she's been gagged. Her eyes go wide again haunted by the sinister. She tries speaking only to make a strangled sound. They exchanged a look of understanding no one should have. A look of indescribable pain. Shared pain. Adora strains to start a third time when Catra finishes it.

"Nothing like Shadow Weaver. And we never will be. You can kill me if I do."

"I wouldn't go that far but...me too."

Wordlessly she let Adora slide against her and rest on her chest. Catra purred as she traced her claws along Adora's arm. Her tail coiled around Adora's waist when she bent to kiss her cheek. A hum is all she gets in reply; its more than enough.

"We're better people now, aren't we?" She asks.

"We'll always be better if we try. You're right I shouldn't be so hard on myself. Catra?"

She saw the eyes staring up fill with worry like it held the same value as water. Like it was something born in Adora's hands and for all their years since childhood it may well have been. Like it paired perfect with the tension stiffening her face. A face that deserved only to finally be soft forever. Catra whispered already knowing she wouldn't cure anything. It was too late of course; shame was her birthright too.

"I'm happy. I'm so happy right now I can't put it into words even for you. But that doesn't change what I've done. Who I was before this, before this version of us...back when we woke up everyday wondering if that'd be the last time."

"Catra no."

"I hurt you, Adora. I keep saying it because it's never going away ok? I hurt you, I hurt Sparkles and Arrow-Boy, Scorpia...Entrapta. The entire damn planet can bite me in the ass someday and I'd understand. The Horde destroyed. This being the happiest time of my life doesn't erase that."

"Catra-"

"What if I get frustrated and relapse? What if it's not even something I do it runs in families and I'm ruining them right now by being their mother because being a failure is just destiny?!"

"Enough."

The hands holding her head were firm as Adora moved to tangle them in her hair. She lowered her fully onto her lap; let herself purr with a breath in. Her eyes closed, tears fell. Adora's thumb wiped them away. It was so gentle Catra couldn't help a sob. She let everything pour out, let herself be wracked by hiccups; not one received judgement. She sat raw, bare in a place where dignity came innate not earned and knew herself still the invader. The conqueror. An aide to desolation.

The knotted feeling in her throat overpowered the new life under Adora's touch. Her stomach tingled at the caress; did their child want to scold her too?

In the end Adora's voice, that better half, guided her to reason.

"You're allowed to feel bad, remember? Like Perfuma said? I cant stop you no matter how much it hurts to hear. You're allowed to have bad days; but you're not allowed to give up. And you're not allowed to stop improving."

She let herself be pushed gently onto their bed; settled into the wholeness of their bodies resting together like they were made for nothing else. Adora is warm, her chest is safe, and her blonde hair falls across Catra better than a curtain. She purrs and purrs in her arms unable to stop, to entertain the thought for stopping. Hands wander the length of her then settle on her hips. Adora's thumb circles her fur until she wraps her tail along that forearm. They kiss and by god Catra will never get over the bliss it brings. How do you get over a free fall?

In silence she lets herself be tucked further against her; their legs entangle just as a feeling indescribable bursts from deep within. Something Catra knows she's understood for as long as she could remember that refuses to emerge in glimpses anymore. Only Adora can hope to know it in equal measure. She wants to wish that more than she's ever wanted at all. She swallows before meeting Adora's eyes. Adora has the briefest second for confusion when Catra's impulse strikes in her softest voice.

"It's like you know me better than I know myself."

Adora's face went wide then slid into the chuckle they know means contentment.

"Because you let me in."

And let her in she continued to do. For every day she grew bigger not a feasible moment did she spend alone. If she hungered the kitchen stocks ran dry, when she rested Bright Moon went still. Whenever she yowled or groaned there came Adora to massage her, Bow to shoo away prying eyes, Glimmer to order so many extra pillows for their room she thought there'd finally be something to suffocate her worse than herself.

She sat at the center of the castle gardens in the sun. Seven months had turned the seasons hot into mild into cold that'd kept her tucked in Adora's embrace, now turned again another leaf into Spring. Her back ached under a pressure fanning up her spine and centered on her swollen belly. Catra stifled a groan. Adora sat slumped over the table sound asleep opposite her. The gentle snores rumbling from her chest punctuated the bird calls like a bad note cutting a song. Catra laughed as soft as possible. Maybe their kid would pick it up from the get-go.

The ice in her drink clinked as she sipped. That's when she heard another step through the grass. She glanced at a hedge over her glass brim.

"Quit screwing around before someone else sees you."

"Ohhh Kitten you still don't know the meaning of fun do you?"

"Shhh. Adora's asleep. Thought you'd be quieter too. Must be sooo hard going soft."

A guard emerged from the shadows in white armor. The crescent standard of Bright Moon on the chest liquified then twisted into darkness. It bent and spread until a new figure emerged. Double Trouble shook out the unshaven half of their blond undercut. They stretched into a saunter across the paving stones.

Their high heels made that grating 'click clack' noise she'd once waited for in the Fright Zone. On reflex she glanced at Adora; she was still asleep, now drooling. The nasal pitch Double Trouble called a voice went lower even as their words dripped sass. Catra wished it'd never change, if you dragged the thought out of her.

"I'm surprised you've kept that tongue of yours looking like that. What a nasty little bite from an expecting mother."

"Oh really? What a tired act from a spy about to be washed out in peacetime. Hey don't sit there!"

"No darling you made the bed now lie in it for that one. This table is more than enough for a party."

They smirked at each other and knew there was nothing to forgive. Double Trouble gave Adora a once over look; their eyes lingered on Catra's stomach. They crossed their legs and arms with that flair Catra secretly imitated in the mirror. She went back to drinking.

"Seems like you two tied the knot finally. So sorry I had to miss that event, the stage called me. Color me not shocked to have seen this coming a mile away."

"...What's that mean?"

"It means darling there are countless women throughout the universe who'd kill for your position. Wife of She-Ra and now adding to this little litter you two are starting? Honey you're the most envied yet admired woman anywhere."

"Yeah well I'll believe it when I see it. That many people couldn't like me unless there was something to take."

"Dear, would you look at me?"

She did and found them filing their nails. Typical. They continued.

"Are we friends?"

A pause. Catra twiddled her thumbs. They looked her dead in the eyes now.

"Yeah."

"And her over there, what is she to you?"

"I...Adora is part of my everything."

"Why?"

"What'd you mean why?"

She stopped herself and startled; her eyes widened toward something distant, somewhere within. There from her memory stood Adora, begging her to turn rebel, Adora catching her before a drop to certain death, Adora laughing as they held hands like children again through dark tunnels. Adora overturning an empire millions strong to save her on nothing more than her heart. Adora crying always crying but never stopping.

Foolish and lovely Adora who promised her in infinite ways she was worth it.

Double Trouble grinned into a sound of contentment. They put their filer away and stared expectantly but not without care.

"I take it you know. Now tell me this and be honest- what about Glimmer and Bow? What about all these other princesses and their kingdoms? How do they treat you?"

"They're...they're kind to me. Every time we were off planet letting Adora do her thing, seeing people hold magic for the first time...putting up with my crap before this baby and...helping."

"Oh dearest me that sounds like dare I say, friendship!"' They gasped in mock surprise and laid a hand on their chest.

Catra shot them a scowl; it didn't last.

"Shut up before Adora gets up and misses another hour of sleep. Do you have any idea how she's been? I don't think she's even running on anything anymore like, everyday."

"Taking care of you I'd assume. Go on am I right?" Double Trouble asked (with a wiggle of their eyebrows of course) as if they were on the verge of a delicious secret. For all Catra knew they probably did and could eat those.

"Don't read my damn mind." She replied resting her chin on her palm.

"Darling, Catra, enough moping. Having to kick you in the rear like this when you of all people are making kittens is a bad look. Times have changed; you're not that hollow eyed puppet I knocked sense into back with the Horde. Be free, live a little, throw your kid wild birthday parties. And for the love of theatre get some better stylists for the two of you. I won't stand for a child who's moms aren't looking fabulous."

The whirlwind of gestures their hands made came to a stop. They stared yet again with that expectation bearing down on her. Catra read their eyes. It came from a good place; a place deep, deep past the snark. A veil of doubt that'd anchored in her fell away. Everyone had been kind no- was being kind. The cruelest thing they could do was throw a pregnant woman out to fend for herself and that was seven months too late. 'Or early. Weren't you found in a box? Weren't you out with the trash once time was up?'

She shuddered. No, it wasn't like that anymore, it had no right to be. No power over her; no power over her family. Catra grit her teeth and fangs flashed. She wouldn't let it. Without thinking a growl rumbled through her. Double Trouble clicked their tongue.

"Stress is extra bad for you right now Kitten. Just try to keep stepping out of that head of yours and see what's around for a change."

At last they stood and made to leave; Catra almost reached to stop them, then thought better. What more was there to add? They'd seen her for an open book. Instead she swallowed hard. The voice that called out to them bled sincerity.

"Thank you."

"Pay me back by making good choices darling."

Two weeks later she wriggles her toes on a beach in Mystacor. The sky shifts from twilight to orange dusk. She just knows she's counted the exact same number of clouds the past hour. The air is so clean it's her only barrier from passing out; every breath jolts energy beneath her aches. Adora's footsteps are easy to read when her ears perk. She wraps her tail around her at the feel of them sitting together.

Adora hums before reaching to stroke her belly. The kiss on her cheek is simple yet her blood dances in excitement. Their fingers lace together on the sand. It grounds them. Catra knows Bow is carrying something by the slightest drag in his gait; Glimmer (if you asked her Catra still had the right to call her Sparkles, Queen shit and everything aside) followed behind. The four of them were a crowd that made anything happen.

As if on cue the baby kicked. Whatever the others blathered about faded from her mind into white noise. Beside her time stopped for Adora too; this kid was already making them predictable. The wonder Catra watched spread across her face stayed fresh as ever. Glimmer and Bow went silent. She felt their eyes trace over, heard their breath hitch. She smiled.

"Can I feel it this time?"

"Glimmer you always ask that. Save room for Uncle Bow, who just so happens to have something I know they'll love!"

"My Aunt helped." Glimmer added behind a hand though Bow could hear her.

"Yes she did but only the clothes; these were all me. See for yourselves."

He revealed a set of dolls from a sack. Each were handwoven and stitched so well if she didn't know Bow she'd guess a machine's handiwork. Her breath hitched. Their likenesses were posed under his movements as Glimmer clapped with a giggle. Adora gasped, covered her mouth while her eyes watered. Big ol' softie her Adora was; yet she fought her own tears. The doll with her face wore a grin between cockiness and charm. The smarmy, ruthless, torn glare of her past self morphed on the silk in her minds eye. Its fangs were bared and its sneer cruel.

Catra shuddered and recoiled until she nearly toppled onto the sand. Her bug eyed stare at the thing matched her heaving chest. Nausea that chased a prickling sensation washed over her like a wave; a force of nature. Several deep breaths gave her some composure but the world continued to blur in a haze. Her heartbeat thrummed in her throat and hearing faded and-

And then Adora filled her vision; Adora held her tight until finally she went still. She felt her cheek cupped and fingers massaging through her hair. Though it had regrown thick as a mane despite reaching her shoulders Adora's nails found her scalp. Of course they would; she purred into the embrace and bit her lip to swallow a cry.

'Just try to keep stepping out of that head of yours and see what's around for a change.'

She blinked; the world popped back into place. They stared at her with faces on a scale from terror to worry; as if there were much difference. Bow's pleas about what was wrong stopped the instant her eyes dared linger on her doll again. He looked down and understood; away it went into the sack.

It wasn't the sentiment that upset her. He knew why. Words returned slow when he took her hand.

"I love it Bow, thanks, really; it's sweet of you. I'm sorry I...y'know. Need to keep working on myself."

"Hey don't apologize for that it's alright. I should be the one saying sorry; I didn't think it was still this bad for you."

"Whatever keeps bugging you we're here ok? No shaming, Horde Scum." Glimmer added with a smile that continued to forgive her more than Catra deserved in her opinion.

But if her own words couldn't be trusted, had she been shown forgiveness after all?

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Adora, always there to cut to the point. She found her voice.

"When I saw myself it's like realizing my kid's gonna idolize me. They're gonna grow up having me everywhere if I'm really with them or not. They might even say they wanna be like their mom. Makes a feeling come over me...who I was tries to tell me they'll find nothing to be proud of."

"Oh Catra. We can't not let you feel that way but what matters is you've changed. You keep changing everyday; look at you now! You're committed to motherhood for one, you and Adora are amazing together, you helped me with so much paperwork- c'mon Bow tell her."

Glimmer nudged Bow until he nudged back; he gave Catra a stare that pierced her doubts. She'd rarely seen anyone who captured the sensation of light poking through clouds. He deserved to be called a sun. She swallowed hard again. God, this baby had her emotional.

"You've come a long way. We chose and keep choosing to help. I know it's hard but don't let whats in your head overpower that. We care. You're not gonna go back to being who you were. If you do, we'd stop you because we want to."

"But, everything with Angella-"

Fuck she mentioned it. Why? She just had to bring it up didn't she? 'Do you enjoy shooting yourself in the foot?...' A squeeze on her arm brought her mind to a halt. Damn, Adora may as well have a license in reading her mood. Glimmer sighed from a deep breath. She watched her face knit into something between grief and acceptance.

Everyone went silent, hinged themselves on whatever Glimmer said next. When she spoke her voice came thoughtful yet blunt.

"My mother is gone. Because of you or not she's not here and wallowing in anger and self pity isn't going to bring her back. I'm sure if she saw me still doing it she'd be upset. I've had the years I needed for that; the Catra in front of me isn't the same who pulled the switch."

Glimmer put a hand on Catra's shoulder and smiled when it was welcome. Their eyes met and she saw Bow nod. Glimmer continued in her queenly voice this time; gone were any hints she spent hours practicing, her mother's strength rang clear.

"Don't discredit our choice to forgive. Trust us to stay honest with you and care. Trust yourself like I know you can. Now, let's rate how cheesy my Aunt's baby clothes look!"

Catra's senses returned as if popping back into existence. Just like that they jumped into the next discussion, the next joke, the next tease. She sat with no one but herself to blame; no one but herself for guilt to feast on. Was that it? Was she still trapped in time? How simple it'd been to get an answer for once, yet beside it came more than she understood. The baby kicked again. She sighed and touched her stomach.

"Sorry you've got an overthinking Mama kid."

Adora nudged her. She turned to find that contagious smile to reel her in.

"Hey they're right y'know. Everything is gonna be ok, I promise."

Promises sacred as they were didn't lessen the pain. Her vision blurred at another stab of pain, another push as her entire body pulsed. Her lower back had it the worst; every ounce of pain coursed from that white hot center until Catra was sure she'd been reduced to jelly, if she could ever see straight again. Another scream tore her throat. Her body arched.

The hiss Adora shot out as Catra's claws dug into her hand registered faintly. She could hear Entrapta babbling some science jargon. Scorpia's frantic voice came beside Entrapta's assembly of rumbling tech no doubt worried over everything; that still didn't help an entire baby kicking out of her. Didn't anyone get that? Now wasn't the time for anything other than whatever got this tiny person out.

Catra screamed and shook and writhed and no matter how many times Entrapta said push it blurred together. She let her head loll sideways in exhaustion. Adora stared at her seized by panic that could do nothing but watch, and hated it. It scratched at the unfocused rage gathering around her like storm clouds. Whatever she said fell hazy on Catra's ears because not a moment behind Catra yelled,

"Next time you're doing this; when this is over I'm kicking your ass AdorAHHGGUUHHH!!!"

Several deep breaths and pushes later a wail robbed anything she could say. Every voice stopped, every head turned and every ear strained. It came again. A high pitched wail echoed through the room. A baby's first cry. There was no time then; no past nor future only the moments for each cry hurled into the world. She watched a shape writhe in Entrapta's arms at the foot of the bed. A flash of metal later and the umbilical cord was cut.

Everything remained a blur...then Entrapta handed her a squirming bundle. The baby rested against her easier than breathing. It was just, so right; one of the most right things Catra ever knew. Their fur matched her tan orange down to the slightly darker stripes. The hair is all Catra; she'd recognize that messy brown anywhere. It's when they blink at her for the first time, that's when Adora's blue eyes stare back.

Their hands are curled into fists and they fuss under her gaze. They blink once, twice, Catra finds herself counting everything. A purr deep enough to rattle them took her by surprise. At last her claws retracted from Adora's skin; she cradled their child between measured breaths. The instant she's released Adora doesn't waste a second coming closer.

They look at each other then their child then back again. Tears are the first thing they feel together followed by Adora's lopsided grin.

"Still wanna kick my ass?"

"Shut up and get in here dummy."

Catra's voice is hoarse but that doesn't lessen the spark in their kiss. Fingers tangle in Catra's sweaty hair and she's breathless when they pull away. There's a moment of silence until Entrapta gets the drop on them. Of course she does, she's Entrapta. They can spy the glint off her tape recorder.

"Just to confirm the baby is healthy at seven pounds eight ounces, a length of twenty centimeters, tail included, and a sex of male. Now the real question is have either of you chosen a name?"

The thick tendril of Entrapta's hair holding her recorder wiggles closer. Catra snarled on impulse and fought to not snap her teeth too.

"Don't hold that thing so close to Finn's face. The sound or whatever's gonna hurt his ears."

"Finn? You want to call him Finn? I thought you still weren't sure about any names." Adora said with the slightest confusion.

"Yeah I was but...I dunno it just feels right. Doesn't he look like a Finn? Hey Scorpia come over here! Does he or does he not look like a Finn?"

If it was possible for scorpions to move like they wanted to break the sound barrier without actually doing so, that was how Scorpia rushed over. Honestly Catra would laugh if she weren't cradling her son as if guarding her trove. Those enormous pincers are enough to shadow Finn's head as he attempts to swat one. Instead Adora gave him a finger to cling on. The tears streaking from Scorpia's eyes dripped waterfalls down her chin.

"Wildcat you're asking me what he looks like? Oh of course he's a Finn, look at that handsome little face and that tiny nose! And his hair! Catra that one is all you oh that stuff is gonna break so many combs I tell ya. He's even got his claws already; you guys have a mama's boy on your hands gosh. I remember when Flora hatched, ah good times..."

"Scorpia..."

"Huh? Oh sorry Wildcat yeah he's definitely a Finn! What'd ya think Adora? Entrapta?"

"Hmm...Baby Log Day, well day of birth. Catra has asked me if her newborn resembles a 'Finn'. As the only knowledge I'm aware of regarding this relates to fish, I will say yes. Fish and their fins are something cats enjoy and thus it is logical."

The line of stares fixed on her made Entrapta press her recorder.

"Addendum, it is also very cool."

"Adora?" Catra called.

Every stare turned toward her awaiting a verdict. Finn gurgled and squirmed when she met his stare. There fell a moment of purest silence.

"Yeah. Finn is a good name. We'll get him ready to propel through life."

There was an echoing 'thwack' when Catra smacked Adora's hair poof; Adora's giggling poured out even as Glimmer, Bow, and every Princess they knew finally appeared. Catra's bed was rushed by a crowd acting like they'd never seen an infant. Then again, no one had seen anyone of Catra's race all her life. Not that she'd asked around.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't come sooner! The meeting ran into overtime but we're here now. Where's the baby?"

Glimmer moved through the parting crowd as she spoke; her body radiated energy while her eyes scanned around. She and Bow must've shared the same mind because they were the first to study Finn. Their jaws dropped.

"So. Darned. Cute. Those ears." Bow said. His eyes practically sparkled with joy.

Glimmer looked at Catra, then Adora with a face that fought a hold on restraint.

"You guys can hold him. Just don't crowd his space." Catra said smiling.

Those were the words that released whatever collective breath everyone held. Finn was passed around the room leaving praise and awe in his wake. Everyone had their own opinions; so much so that the buzz of their chatting built Catra's headache right as Finn was finally returned. Frosta was yelling about how to shape a commemorative ice sculpture; Perfuma created several bouquets now burying Adora. Bow, Entrapta, and Scorpia stood putting their heads together discussing proper baby nutrition over the next year.

When she checked Finn his face grew red then wrinkled and that's when it hit. A full strength wail. The kind of cry to break noise into silence and validate Catra's agitation. Something resembling peace slid over the tension settling in the air. Adora managed to roll out of the flowers before looking at Catra. A nod in response is all she needs to wrangle everyone away. When the door closes for the last time only the three of them remain.

Finn continued crying though nowhere as intense. Catra took a deep breath, then she held the infant face down, tucked his arms across his chest, and finished by holding his bottom. She had to give herself credit; not a single mistake, Perfuma may as well have done it for her. The cries quieted immediately and ceased when she gently rocked him. In a minute he lay snuggled on her chest. Sleep made his eyes fight to stay open though he soon lost.

"He curls up just like you."

"Yeah. We'll see if he keeps the whole castle awake with your snoring." Catra replied chuckling.

Adora is beside her in seconds with that lopsided grin. The bed gets crowded bearing the three of them but it'll manage.

"I'm not an awful snorer ok; everyone's gonna survive when they sleep. They've done it this long."

"So you admit it's a problem."

"No! Anyway that's not important look at his chubby cheeks. That's all him."

"Babe, I think that's something every baby has. Did you forget all seven of Scorpia's kids, or even Bow and Glimmer's daughter?"

"Of course not but you're not looking at them. We made those. They're perfect and adorable as much as the rest of him."

Adora stroked Finn's hair and nestled against Catra's side. Together they yawned then laughed.

"Tired?"

"I gave birth Adora of course I am."

"Heh, sorry. Nighty night you two."

She's long learned Adora's penchant for sleeping hard enough to make the dead jealous. How exactly she can turn it on and off yet thrash restlessly, still waking up then tackling an entire day? After years Catra might never know and, some days, didn't care to anymore. It simply was. That was Adora, always rushing to do everything, solve every problem, take every blow. No matter how much their loved ones- no matter how many times Catra told her otherwise some piece stayed. It was like an infection molded into Adora's skin.

God did Catra still hate it. If Finn inherited that...

Her body ached worse than getting dragged by rope. She would know; Glimmer had been the one pulling after all. In those days of war and violence whipped into a storm this feeling was nothing new. Yet it was. Now there came a new tired setting on her bones. The tired from achieving something bigger than herself yet selfish in origin. Well, maybe the selfish part hadn't changed.

Maybe she really can be good not just do good. Adora began to snore as Catra let sleep claim her.

When Finn turns one year old Catra has settled into the race of parenthood. There's feeding time, nap time, diaper changing, the once a week checkups, and making a fool of herself so Finn laughs. One day passes with the funneled energy of several; no longer can she rise with the sun into a cage of rumination. Finn dictates her snapping awake on whims as random as the harried sleep itself.

She can't mope she just can't, he won't let her. He needs her and for the first time even beyond Adora, Catra accepts it. Not hesitating or doubting or anything else. Not the painstaking slip and climb over struggle after struggle until she and Adora were finally level. Finn right now is only a creature of needs; without her...she doesn't want to think further. There is finally someone for whom she can only give at the very beginning. The stress is worth it, it's not about her faults.

Perfuma notices of course. The way she walks ever eager into their meetings, even with eye-bags, stands far more confident than the hesitation that made her drag her feet. From the stares she gets now it's as if persecution and guilt lie only in her shadow. At least, that's what she thinks Perfuma means when one meeting she says,

"You look radiant Catra! Have you been keeping up with your personal letters?"

The morning light shines behind Perfuma making her hair resemble a glow. Combined with her chipper voice and pristine skincare (Seriously how did she keep up with seven kids at her heels?) Catra would be getting a headache right now. The old her would think Perfuma above her wielding such composure, such carefree grace. The her of the present instead replies weary but smiling.

"I have. For real this time too. No more skipping days."

"Oh lovely, I'm glad you're coming around. Self reflection and forgiveness can be so liberating; never forget you're allowing yourself space and patience. Walk with me."

She's heard those words enough to make her head spin, but now they land in her heart. A warmth seeps in the way she thinks Perfuma always intended. If she had to reflect now as they pass Scorpia's gardens, she wouldn't call messy hair, tired eyes, and what might be clothes from two days ago radiant. Perfuma probably wasn't being literal.

The trails of Perfuma's green shawl (Seemingly more fluttery today than usual; like butterfly wings if she had to compare) stop inside a wide room. Catra knows which pillow to sit on and in seconds Perfuma is across her. Their eyes meet then close before performing a basic breathing exercise. One breath in and Catra gathers her worries, one pause, on the exhale her body relaxes.

Her eyes open and find Perfuma doing the same. The ear to ear smile on her face still unnerves Catra like a pinprick; it's strange to be so happy in a world built on entropy. Catra's allowed that hesitation, right? No she's being an idiot again; she's seen Perfuma a mess, back when Scorpia and all her people contorted under Horde Prime's marching orders, under the chips once burrowed in their flesh.

Regardless she'd never given up then. She hadn't been Catra running away the minute she projected doubt on Adora. She shook her head and sighed. This was getting nowhere. Of course for her part Perfuma sat in silence, waiting for as much time as Catra needed. She smiled shyly at that.

"Sorry got lost in reflecting I guess."

"It's alright Catra that's what we're here for. Do you want to share your thoughts?"

"I think you already know after this long." Catra licked her lips nervously.

"I don't mind listening."

A long pause. She read nothing but openness in Perfuma's eyes.

"You know I've said before I was jealous of you, unnerved even. How could anyone stay so happy when the world hurts? Well now I think I understand. There's no point in dwelling on my pain. Sure I can feel it, acknowledge it, but it'll pass again. Letting it control me when it's something I'll carry forever is exhausting. All I've done then is hurt myself when for once no one else wants to. That's what Finn's made me realize."

She finished with a sigh and slackened shoulders; a woman spent at last of a pointless barrier. Isolation was no longer a badge of honor; it never had been. Perfuma wore genuine surprise like she'd heard something profound, not Catra stating the obvious. When Perfuma next spoke the words poured out afraid to stop. Afraid, Catra senses, that Catra will bolt away in embarrassment.

"I'm proud of you that's the most you've shared all at once yet. And it sounds like it truly means self-love. You're allowing vulnerability and have accepted a truth. We are all works in progress."

"Thanks. I guess I have." The tears flowing down Catra's face make her voice wobble.

"Would you like a hug?"

With a nod Catra opened her arms and wept into Perfuma's dress; she wept the choked yet earnest sobs of a child. She felt a hand pat her hair.

"What happened when you were a child, it's not your fault."

There comes a pause where Catra stiffens then pulls back but not away. Her watery eyes glisten under the light while the rest of her trembles. Her lips quiver wanting to fight a new sob on instinct; it makes her teeth grit. None of it is hostile, Catra stares at Perfuma who again brings down the axe on the final barrier tainting her heart. Despite herself the words are out; Shadow Weaver installed that defense mechanism in her, denial.

"It is...it is."

"It's not your fault."

"But it is! I deserved it because I couldn't fight back!"

"It's not your fault."

"It...I...did."

Catra's face scrunched under the weight of the lie. She gets a solemn head shake in response. The sick sensation in her chest crumbles and her body feels no stronger than jelly. This time she clings back in Perfuma's embrace. She wails. Perfuma's reassurance pierces the scared girl inside gentle as sunshine.

"It's not your fault."

When the flood within her passes they mulled over tea. The silence now settled almost as comfortable as being with Adora. If Catra thought harder on it though, maybe silences themselves didn't need Adora to be good. Maybe the truth is Adora isn't the only bond to believe in; the others have waited on Catra long enough. She feels a pang of guilt at that. It flickers then dies when she hears the question,

"How are you and Finn? You mentioned him earlier."

"Kinda speaks for itself just looking at me y'think? But uh, sorry. It's been great; busy every second and sometimes I wanna tear my hair out but...in the end I really do like being a mom. It's not just about loving Finn and having him with Adora either. It's also like...I dunno..."

"Like starting over; a second chance?"

"Yeah...yeah I think it is." Catra smiled.

"The advice I can give for that is don't forget you're still guiding him. Parenting with compassion and trust will help you both, but he must find himself and make his choices."

She had nothing to add other than slight alarm. Then the weight behind the words settled, planted seeds in her thoughts. She stared out the window drinking her tea; her mind drifted and for once the peace of it wasn't strange.

When Finn is two years old he shivers in her arms. The storm sent another sheet of rain beating against the castle. Grey covers the window glass and another lightening flash dimly illuminates the room. In the span of a blink it's gone; Finn mewled stuffing part of Catra's shirt in his mouth. Her hand ran through his hair. That seemed to relax his hold.

He looked up at her with Adora's wide blue eyes and for an instant Catra remembers being six, Adora's blanket her only comfort on nights like this.

"It's a thunderstorm Finn. I know it sounds scary but it'll pass ok? It always has before. You were too little to remember."

"Where's Mommy?"

She hears the fear getting ahold of him; she answers a touch too fast. It takes everything in her hoping he didn't notice.

"With Auntie Glimmer remember? They're meeting about adult stuff. We have to wait."

"I want her here."

"I know Finn, I know. She's coming. You're ok with me. Nothing bad will happen. Mommy's coming soon."

He nodded and though he whimpered he concentrated on Catra alone. At the next roar of thunder however he stiffened with his tail gone frizzy. The door opened bringing a stripe of light and Adora's unmistakable silhouette. Immediately Finn sprang out of Catra's arms to tackle Adora's legs. Catra hears her gasp then laugh softly as she kneels.

"Mommy! Be She-Ra!"

"Hey there to you too Finn. Why do you want She-Ra out?"

"Make bad sounds go away."

"It's the weather, I don't control that. Weren't you safe with Mama? Look she's waiting for us and I bet she stayed the whole time."

"But I want Mama and Mommy..."

Catra left bed and kneeled beside Adora. She ruffled Finn's hair; his tears were gone with a swipe of her thumb. Adora held his hands smiling while Catra went on.

"It's ok to be scared. We won't leave you not ever."

"Even when one of us isn't here with you, remember we love you. Think real hard about us when you're scared and all the bad stuff will go away."

Finn sniffled, swallowed, fumbled to speak those words they knew were sacred.

"You promise?"

"Yes." They reply together.

More thunder cracks the air signaling another swell of hissing rain. She watched as he froze squeezing his eyes shut. His hands balled into fists; he didn't flinch or cry when the storm gentled again. Now he stood trembling but no less brave. The warmth spreading through Catra was mirrored in the indescribable pride on Adora's face. She reached for her hand and it was held.

"Like that?" Finn asked, staring at them as if everything hinges on this moment.

"Just like that."

Catra kisses his forehead; it's no time at all until they hug him close. His heartbeat calms under their embrace and she purrs; it's always as hard as the day he was born. The purr she feels back widens her eyes then-

"Mama why're you crying?"

"She's happy you did it, right Catra?"

"Yeah...I'm happy Finn."

She shivers at Adora's kiss on her cheek. The touch of her breath tickling when she whispers almost makes Catra purr, for a reason neither can say aloud. She wraps her tail around Adora's wrist and listens.

"I'll get him to bed ok. Won't be long."

Catra mumbles her reply against her lips,

"I know."

They kiss and though it's a second before Adora pulls away, Catra knows peace.

At three years old Finn runs through the halls whooping and hollering. The stuffed bear glides through the air in his grasp. She knows Mr. Snuggles will need a wash when the day's done. Cupping her hands around her mouth she gently calls after.

"Don't run so fast you'll trip. Watch where you're going."

"Yeah Mama I know!"

Of course the thud she expected comes not an instant later. Even if he landed on carpet her blood pounds in panic; she sprints light on her feet toward his side. No second is wasted righting him from laying flat on his belly. She checks his arms, his legs, his face, the back of his head is fine too. He holds his wrist looking down ashamed.

"My head hurts."

"It's alright we'll get some medicine before seeing Mommy. Next time watch out ok? I might not have been here to help."

He nodded but still won't meet her eyes. Her expression falls. She sits with her hand giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze; her tail twitched nervously. Finn is silent. Far more than if he acted up or felt too embarrassed. The air itself feels heavier as if to breathe means starting a count down before down becomes up and left is right. Her voice shakes ever so slightly. Was this because of her?

"Finn? What's wrong? Does it hurt real bad?"

"Auncle Dee Tee told me something that made me feel funny. Flora and Angella said boys get hurt a lot when they play. B-But I like girl games with them too! When I fell I remembered what Auncle Dee Tee said."

"That's just silly there aren't 'boy' and 'girl' games. Just games. What'd Auncle say?"

"They said that too. They said nobody has to be a girl or boy if they don't want to. They said a big word like 'nuhncun-foming' I think."

She hears footsteps round the corner, a walk she could pick out anywhere. Adora stops then assesses; she wastes no time coming to them. Immediately her face is knit in worry and concentration. Catra knows that look better than herself. The look of a soldier, of years honed as a commanding officer, the look her fantasies once replicated dreaming of their conquest of Etheria...it's never appeared serene as it does now.

It reminds her not for the last time she's not alone.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt Finn? I knew I heard something bump on my way over."

"He tripped and fell but it's not serious. I checked already. He just has a headache."

"Good. C'mon let's go get medi-"

"Adora wait. He had something important he was saying. Finn? Can you tell Mommy what you told me?"

His expression finally lights up again; courage gathered when he stands straighter and stares at them firm.

"When I fell I remembered what Auncle told me. They said some people don't feel like they're just a boy or girl. My girl friends said boys fall a lot playing; I like their girl stuff where we don't fall a lot too! I wanna...I wanna be like Auncle. Auncle sounds like me."

They sat and the silence turned to awe. They glanced at one another then at Finn, who stood in utmost seriousness. Double Trouble's words floated to the surface of Catra's memories. She had to step outside her own head right? Well this time the world did it well enough for her. Adora as usual is the first to make a move.

"What do you want us to call you?"

"I'm Finn! I don't wanna be a boy or a girl I wanna be both! I wanna do everything I like as me. Can I be 'nunhcuhnfoming' too?"

To their surprise they chuckle as Finn looks on, conviction dropping into worry. Catra grinned and pulled Finn into a hug.

"You can be whatever you want kid including nonconforming. We're not gonna say no to anything like that."

"Do you want us to still call you 'He'?" Adora said in a tone that announces she's not worrying herself sick for once.

"Nuh uh! Auncle uses 'They'."

"Then that's what we'll use too. Thanks for telling us Finn."

Finn, they, beam from ear to ear. They picked up and dusted off Mr. Snuggles holding him close. They purr echoing through the hall; by instinct Catra joins in while Adora plants kisses all over Finn's cheeks.

"Does your head still hurt?"

"A little..."

"Let's go make it better then."

Finn is four when their troublemaking streak starts to shine. They let Adora chase them through the back gardens at a sprint. It's an unspoken dare to crown who's faster and watching from the sidelines, Catra doesn't need to guess it's Finn. Like what she imagined of any child of hers Finn scampers up a tree next. They wave a toy and blow a raspberry down at Adora who's panting for dear life. Her poor fool never stood a chance.

Adora stands hunched over, her finger raised to call a time out. She's still gathering her breath when Catra hears her force out words as she walks toward them both.

"Ok give Mommy a break for...five minutes...or forever. Ugh."

"You're too slow so I win!"

They watch as Finn sticks their tongue out again. Catra kneels to pat Adora's shoulder. She plants a kiss in her hair and grins.

"Hate to say it but I told you they'd beat you. Give it up Adora."

"I'll never...understand...how you two...do it...so unfair."

"Only She-Ra can win a race with me Mommy. If you're She-Ra it's really hard to keep up."

Still wheezing Adora glanced at Catra in defeat. A shrug is all she gets in response. Finn sits on a branch above them swinging their legs, the embodiment of confidence. Then they do something that throws off even Catra; they hang from their perch by the tail. Upside down Finn pays no heed to their gaping Mama and instead teases Adora with another raspberry. She falls on her ass yelping.

A choked giggle left Catra before rising to laughter. By the time she's full on snorting she rolls in the grass; upside down Adora scowls at them both but it's all in fun. The way she sees her blush makes her nerves go fluttery. She doesn't need to be told when their eyes meet and Catra knows it's mutual. Before anything can come of it Finn lands on the ground effortlessly.

She watches them tug Adora's sleeve; the fake modesty and flattering lilt they're piling on too thick gives them away. The fact that they can hold the performance this well is far more a Catra thing than Adora. She feels hesitant pride bubble within her. Could she have that knowing where it came from?

"Mommy my toy got stuck up there, can She-Ra get it? Because she's faster and stuff."

"Finn I can't keep transforming all week."

"Pleeease? It's the last day today; you said I could ask sometimes."

"Damnni-uh I mean I remember. Fine but only because you asked nicely."

Catra doesn't need to be an Entrapta-level genius to hear the unspoken, 'And because I totally lost too.' Finn definitely hears it by the satisfaction in their grin. With a resigned sigh Adora straightened and stretched out a hand. From the bottom of her lungs she bellowed,

"For the Honor of Greyskull!"

A blinding light engulfed Adora from the outline of a golden sword. Catra still had no idea where it always came from. It was of course magic however; you never had to question that kind of thing. She figured that was why it felt comforting, familiar, compared to hard numbers. Most of all, she muses as the light dims, magic embodies everything Adora has been long before the sword.

The light leaves dissolving into rainbow trails. They outline She-Ra's massive form towering at eight feet. Her arms are almost as thick as the tree branches themselves when she begins to climb. Finn watched with their jaw hanging and eyes wide. Their fists rest against their teeth as if every transformation will be the last each time; the anticipation mixed with joy is almost palpable when it infects Catra.

She nudges them while Adora gets tangled in leaves. Finn's rapture breaks and they flash her a knowing smile.

"You love being sneaky huh?"

"She-Ra is cool!"

They look up together and find Adora fumbling not to fall. Though She-Ra carries a noble poise Adora is very much the one nervously sweating. Catra grinned.

"She's very cool."

Adora successfully lands without a scratch; the toy rocket is the size of a river stone in She-Ra's large hand. In an instant it's back to scale when She-Ra is dismissed, a gold afterglow outlining Adora. It hits Catra then that Finn has grown at level with Adora's waist. When did that happen over the years?

"One missing toy rescued from an evil tree. It won't be eating any more any time soon."

"Thanks Mommy. No more She-Ra for a little bit."

"Right. Mommy needs breaks just like She-Ra does too."

Catra takes Adora's hand and wraps her tail around her. Her purr is soft though outmatched by the gentle kiss she gives her wife. She glanced at Finn who waits expectantly; the toy is already forgotten in favor of another game. Catra chuckles.

"Ok Finn you've had enough of bossing Mommy. This time I'll race you home."

"Loser has to give up dessert!"

"Sure kid. Ready set go!"

Like a bullet Catra sprints down the low hill; she barely hears Finn's call above the wind. In seconds they're right behind and she finds herself laughing carefree into the dusk.

Finn is five when their fur becomes their first taste of responsibility. Their tail is a mess of frizz most mornings; their thick hair resembles a mop fighting against every tame comb they own. Catra does her best to guide them, but she hasn't been five in twenty years. The memories since remain dark and pressed under the claws of greater horrors. Had she ever had time to brush herself seriously then? Not a relevant question; this isn't the time for self grieving.

Finn fusses, tries again, then scowls. They look at her with a plea in their eyes. Catra blinks then finds them slumping shoulders and lips quivering. Their hair seems messier than before for every wrong stroke. It takes her longer than she'd like to notice the budding tears.

"Hey it's ok we'll keep trying. It's hard at first but you can do it."

"Bet it's easy for you Mama."

"Why's that?"

"Because you never get messy. Your hair is always pretty."

Catra beckons and they come within her reach. She wipes their tears, smoothes their tangles best she can. They stare into her eyes with that intensity only they can muster.

"I used to be worse than you. When I was your age I had no one helping me."

"Not even Mommy?"

Catra laughed quiet and gentle, always gentle.

"She tried but she was as small as you. And we know Mommy doesn't look the same; she didn't know how. Do you know how old I was when I learned to keep my hair pretty? Really got good at it?"

Finn shook their head. She could sense the sadness give way to curiosity, to a rising hope.

"I was already a grown up. Wayyy bigger than you y'know? If it took me so long there's no rush. You keep trying until it works ok."

"Ok..."

"Let's start over. Just watch me first."

Time passes in a haze enough for her to learn Finn took after her old temper; step by patient step her hands once drenched in the blood of another life calm them to retry. They break for lunch and laugh together, their mistakes now harmless behind them. This, Catra has learned, is completion.

Princess Prom makes everyone nervous and excited equally. She watches Finn, taller than most other ten year olds, adjust their tie. She smiles remembering how many they'd tried on that morning without complaint. How when the right one came along they'd strutted prideful for her and Adora's opinion. They fidget flexing their hand and rocking on their heels. She can't blame them; the announcer's droning speech packs more formality than Catra thought was possible.

Put simply, it's boring, and they both fight a yawn. Adora doesn't notice them tap their feet together, one leading the other following, until another six minutes that pass like hours. She shushes them but when another minute crawls by she joins in. The three of them form a jagged rhythm while holding back giggles.

When the solemnity is done away with and the dance floor opens they lose Finn to their friends. She sends them off with a cheek kiss and Adora's blessing to have fun, then they're alone. They whisk themselves to the snack bar; she watches Adora gorge on tiny food like she's taken Entrapta's appetite for herself. Smirking as she leans against the table she knows Adora can feel her gaze.

"Alright Princess charge your battery any more and I'll dance by myself."

"Noa faish wahit fo me!" Adora forced out through a mouthful.

"Hey easy there. What's that translate to?"

Adora swallows hard and snorts at her.

"I said no fair wait for me. Now you're getting payback."

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try."

Before she can register it a cupcake is smashed into her mouth. She can hear Adora laughing even when Catra serves one back in retaliation. By the time they've wasted three cupcakes they don't hear Scorpia saunter over. They nearly tumble face first into her serving tray.

"Whoa slow down guys! Party just started to get so worked up. You two sure love having fun."

"Sorry Scorpia didn't see you there. Catra wants to hurry and dance; I want to savor what Entrapta had prepared tonight."

Catra stuck out her tongue and laughed when Adora elbowed her side in jest. When they look over Scorpia has forgone food entirely. She stares at them, her eyes glistening from would be tears.

"You guys are just adorable did you know that?"

"You remind us all the time." Catra replied and wrapped an arm around Adora.

"Actually uh, on second thought, I've got icing down my dress. Excuse me ladies."

Adora gives her a peck of a kiss before disappearing. Catra watched her go spellbound by the soft lights cast on everyone. Adora's outline is dreamlike, Catra can hear her breath hitch. Then far too suddenly she's gone. It's funny, she no longer feels the pain that once tore through her fast as lightening. Maybe parting no longer means goodbye. She knows she always knew.

"Y'know Wildcat I gotta say I've never seen you look this happy. Well happier than that time in the Crimson Wastes. Oh or when Finn was born. It's nice."

"Heh. We're in the same boat then. I can't even tell when it started."

"Wanna know how I can tell this time?"

The intensity in Scorpia's tone made Catra straighten. She stopped trying to eat another cupcake and met her gaze.

"It's the eyes. They're so clear these days. They're empty, not in a bad way. Like...it's like you can take on anything. You've got resolve but it's not angry."

"Calm?"

"Yeah. Calm and whole. That's some strength even I don't think I have yet. Your eyes can see through anything."

"Geez way to praise a girl. I think I get it though. Adora's been saying something similar. Glimmer, Bow, Perfuma...everyone brings it up somehow. They act like I'm supposed to know just haven't told them." Catra smiles around a bite of her snack. It was achingly sweet yet she closed her eyes and tasted the love put in.

"Of course they see it too. Every truly strong person is kind."

Catra's eyes widen. For a moment she moves as if to speak then instead smiles, content. Her heart feels light as a feather.

She spots Adora returning through the crowd. Everyone parts reverently for the savior of the galaxy; to Catra it's another homecoming. They don't need the titles or praise; at last having each other, having themselves, is enough.

Scorpia takes her leave just as Adora emerges. The teasing look she wore before is replaced by excitement; the kind that simply is because it can be. Without prompting she offered Catra her hand. She's seen this scene countless times in as many settings. She takes it.

"Ready for that dance I owe you?"

It happens in an instant; Catra reads her eyes. They're calm, resolved, kind. Her reflection stares back within their clarity. She smiles. She hopes Finn will have those eyes someday.

"Always am."

#my writing #spop #catradora #glimbow #scorfuma #finn spop

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0dirty-deals0 · 4 years

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Tall Mc headcanons!

Warnings: None, reader is gender neutral

Lucifer (6'3):

♤Upon first meeting you he'd be rather surprised to see your height. He knew humans could be just as tall as them (in their normal form at least) but seeing you up close is impressive.

♤Not very insecure if you happen to be almost as tall or taller than him. He's still a demon after all and height doesn't help much against what he can do to a human. He does get a bit shook if you happen to stand rather close to him and he notices your height.

♤Romantically, it is a bit of a pleasant surprise when you kiss the top of his head out of nowhere. It's a sure fire way to get him flustered though expect a bit of scolding if it's in public.

♤If you were to wear shoes to make yourself taller he wouldn't hesitate to compliment you in private.

♤"Feeling a little high and mighty today, love? Ah, no need to take them off, it was a compliment. You look stunning."

Mammon (6'0):

◇Another one who'd be surprised to see you close to his eye level. Would probably blurt out asking how you were so freakin' tall for a human.

◇Is a bit insecure when he stands beside you even if you were still slightly shorter than him, though he'd be relieved since you being tall means he doesn't have to worry much about other demons messing with you physically. You bet your ass he's still gonna hover around you though, height won't change his protectiveness over you.

◇Romantically, he starts to adore the height difference when it comes to affection. Despite his intial 'protests', he loves that you're able to give him kisses and hugs easily and the fact that you just cover him easily when you do so. Makes him feel safe.

◇Wearing shoes that make you taller and tower over him makes him flustered so fast when he sees you.

◇"H-how did you get so much taller!? They're your new shoes-? NO! You don't have to take them off, you look good, f-for a human! Really good- don't give me that adorable smile!" (Help him)

Leviathan (6'0):

♤Definitely not aware of your height difference at all when you two first met but when he notices one day he does a quick double take.

♤Is a bit jealous that you're close to his height or taller than him despite being human but overtime he does grow used to it. Does get impressed if you manage to tower over his taller brothers.

♤Romantically, he starts to really enjoy you being taller than him. He can sit in your lap and game and you can also pt him and give him head kisses while he does so. He's over the moon even if he is super super shy about it.

♤Gets incredibly shy and flustered when you really tower over him with taller shoes. May ask you to cosplay tall characters he knows in the long run.

♤"U-uwah, this is just like the anime, 'The foreign exchange is a giant and I think I want them to top me.' N-No, don't take off your shoes yet! C-Can I get a pat first?" (Help him 2.0)

Satan (6'1):

◇Is more aware than his brothers that some humans do tower over some demons in their normal form so he's heavily unphased.

◇Doesn't stop him from being hella impressed when he does notice that you're taller or almost taller than him. May ask if anyone else in your family is as tall as you. He finds it amusing if you happen to be taller than Lucifer or Beel.

◇Romantically, another one who loves sitting in your lap while he does things like read. The feeling of your head resting on top of his is comforting and he's a sucker for you playing with his hair. You swear he purrs.

◇Is incredibly attracted when you wear something to make you taller, it makes him want to see you submit to him more if he's being honest. Firm believer in the saying "the bigger they are, the harder they fall" when it comes to the physical dynamic between you two.

◇"New shoes? You look absolutely lovely, pet. Why not come closer to really show them off to me? Ah, don't be embarassed, you're simply breathtaking."

Asmodeus (5'9):

♤Another brother whose heavily aware that some humans tower over them in their normal forms. A human whose taller than him is certainly nothing new, doesn't mean he doesn't find it attractive though.

♤Loves standing beside you just to feel how you're almost as tall or taller than him. May or may not ask you if you can carry him bridal style once you two are close enough.

♤Romantically, HE'S SO INTO YOUR HEIGHT IT AIN'T FUNNY ANYMORE. Loves being in your arms to recieve your hugs, kisses, literally anything physical. Since you're tall he can comfortably hug one of your arms as you two walk around and that's like the highlight of his day when he gets to do so.

♤He's totally the one who suggests you get shoes to make you taller, he's LIVING whenever he sees you in a pair he chose specifically for you.

♤"Ah, you look gorgeous, dearest! Almost as gorgeous as me. Hm? You feel too tall? Nonsense, you look absolutely divine, sweetheart. Come, let's knock them dead together."

Beelzebub (6'4):

◇H e c k, this man's a giant. His height also isn't exactly on his mind a lot of the time so he doesn't really notice your height at first.

◇Probably notices how tall you were while he went down to the kitchen and saw you casually reach for something high up without much hassle. He was impressed for a split moment and finally took notice of your height.

◇Romantically, not a lot would change even if you were taller than him. He would still bear hug you and give you kisses. The only difference would be that if you were taller than him, you'd be dishing out the head pats or kisses. He'll also offer piggyback rides to make you two an unstoppable looming tower.

◇He wouldn't be blown out of his seat if you were to wear shoes that made you taller but he'd still compliment you.

◇"Your new shoes make you look a lot taller. Hmm? No I don't think it's weird, you're still my cupcake, just a bit taller... and cuter"

Belphegor (5'10):

♤Okay gonna be real, with the situation you meet him in your height is literally the last thing he'd notice about you.

♤Once you grow closer though, he does notice how you almost tower over a few of his brothers and like some of his brothers he's impressed. He'll be even more impressed if you do happen to be as tall as Beel.

♤Romantically, nothing changes between the two of you. You just so happen to be better at really covering him with your limbs when you two cuddle. You also have a bit more surface area for him to lay on. If you and Beel were to sleep together in the same bed as him it's a mess of tangled limbs but he's in bliss.

♤Wouldn't really notice how tall you grew in the shoes you wear, but wouldn't hesistate to shut down all your insecure thoughts if you had doubts.

♤"Mmh? Your new shoes? They look good as always... What? No you don't look bad at all, even if are taller than Beel. Listen, no matter how tall you are in what you wear, you're still going to be my teddy bear. That's never going to change"

Others: Ahhh, I tried to upload this many times. Tumblr please accept this- Anyways, THANK YOU FOR THE FIRST REQUEST ANON! I'm sorry it took so long! It seems that tumblr only allows me to post during certain times, I think- I hope you enjoyed reading this and don't be afraid to tell me if this isn't what you were expecting! Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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tehrevving · 4 years

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Now Where Will You Be - 1

I’m starting a new series :O

Basically I really liked the dynamic between the characters in “One Chance” so I’m writing some more stuff in a slight AU of that universe. The only important thing is that instead of the reader only being there for a few days, she’s there with him indefinitely, and this will of course never be addressed.

Chapter 1: Featuring a descriptive fight with blood and gore, gun play, blood kink.

It’s a full blown miracle when some random, well dressed man walks into the Devil May Cry office and asks Dante to kill some hellish creatures for him. Dante can’t believe that his half-assed advertising actually worked. If the man had come in just a few days ago then he would have said no, but he’s feeling a little bit better now, a little bit less depressed. He turns to the source of his sudden personality change to find her standing there beside him and he finds that he can’t resist the way that her face lights up when he agrees to it.

Dante puts on a shirt this time, he’s not sure why he’s bothered because he knows it’s just going to end up getting destroyed anyway. She insists on coming with him, insists that she can handle herself and while he’s a little bit concerned, he can’t really do much but believe her. He has no idea where she keeps getting all of these clothes from, but she ends up dressed in a dark coloured tank top and black jeans with a large belt. His heart leaps into his throat when he sees she’s got thigh holsters on, and it leaps again once more when she turns to him and ever so sweetly asks if she can borrow some guns.

He’s even more concerned when she immediately gravitates towards a shotgun, holding it in her hands with glee. He warns her about the kickback but she just shrugs, says “I know,” and straps it against her leg along with a pistol and some small blades. She winks when she notices that he’s watching her twirl them in her hands and lifts it up, running her tongue against the flat side of the blade. Dante gulps and averts his eyes while she laughs.

She stands in the doorway waiting for him, all loaded up. She cocks her hip and stares at him and he just can’t help but think that he’s going to be very distracted during this job. Then she’s smiling and taking all of it off and shoving it into her bag, because obviously you can’t just wander the streets fully loaded.

It’s a pretty leisurely walk because he doesn’t have a car. She points out all of the things that are different than she’s used to, and what’s going to change. She points out a few places that she wants to visit later and Dante sighs now realising that he’s going to have to play tour guide.

Eventually they reach the abandoned warehouse, well it’s abandoned because of the infestation. Apparently there’s a nest of gross things crawling around inside, the guy wasn’t too specific about what they actually were. She straps her arsenal back to her body and then pulls out a pair of what looks like heavy duty walkman headphones, but with no wires. “In case they’re loud,” she says and he shrugs, throwing his sword on his back and holstering his guns.

She gestures for him to enter first and he’s still unsure about her tagging alone. “You don’t need to watch out for me,” she smiles, “but if I need you, you’ll know. Alright?”

Dante nods even though he’s not sure at all.

He walks through the door first, because he’s basically bulletproof. There’s a reasonable sized nest of grotesque creatures, writhing and crawling over each other. They shriek at him, inhuman screams echoing so heavily off the walls that it makes even his ears ring, he realises that maybe she does know what she’s doing.

The creatures start limping towards him, their gait is wobbly, unsteady. They drag themselves along the floor using their disgustingly long claws. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard and it grates deep inside his skull.

Dante takes in a deep breath and draws his sword. He moves forward with speed and cleaves the heads off four of the creatures with one fluid slice of his weapon. Their too hot blood gushes from their empty necks and rains down on him. He thinks he probably should have thought that through a little bit better.

They’re not difficult to defeat but there’s a lot of them. He fights through as many as he can while she takes up the rear, the ones that he misses. He slices through more and then turns to make sure she’s okay, and then finds himself utterly distracted.

He watches as she plants her feet on the ground, lifts up his shotgun and double taps two rounds right into the face of his horrific abomination, already mangled from his sword. Her arms shake from the recoil but she holds steady as the creature screams and falls to the floor in a twitching heap. She cocks the gun again, turns to him and grins. Fuck his pants get so tight suddenly that he can hardly move. Not that he needs to because he’s almost immediately skewered through the chest by a wicked scythed claw. Dante grunts and shoots the damn thing in the face without even looking behind him. The claw drags sticky against his insides as the weight of the creatures drags on it as it falls to the floor. He pulls the thing out from his back with a squelch and a spray of blood. He turns to find her staring at him, giggling, like she knows she’s the reason he got stabbed.

He finds he’s more motivated then, covered in their blood and his own. He goes after the remaining creatures while his skin itches as it knits back together. He notices that they don’t attack her like they attack him, they approach her like they’re curious, like she’s not a threat even though she’s ripping them apart. Damn they go for him through like he’s personally fucked and then murdered their parents.

Suddenly they’re all dead, heaped in sizzling, rotting piles of flesh on the bloody warehouse floor. He turns and finds her blowing on the steam that billows from the muzzle of her shotgun. There’s demon blood and guts streaked across her ripped shirt, he can see parts of her coloured bra peeking through and even covered in guts he’s never seen anything so alluring.

He stalks towards her like a predator and the creature inside of him purrs when she doesn’t back down. She digs her nails into his chest and pulls him to her lips while he walks her backwards. He crowds her against the shitty, blood stained brick wall, caging her in. Dust falls from the bricks as he puts his hands through them in his desperation to keep her in his grasp. She pulls away and stares directly into his eyes, “not enough carnage for you huh?”

“Not enough carnage,” he growls, “not enough payoff.”

She digs her nails hard into his skin, through the holes in his shirt where the sythe stabbed him through. The skin is already healed but she digs into it like the wound might just open up again. “I call it your horny energy,” she laughs, “when you rile yourself up and the fight just isn’t enough to disperse all the adrenaline. The air around you goes hazy, like looking at a fire. Sometimes you get too eager, and then it’s not just demon blood covering the floor afterwards, if you catch my drift. Powerful devil pheromones are enough to drive even a human mad.” She bites her lip, leaves him to ponder her words and then she’s on him.

He doesn’t even know why he let her talk, why he didn’t just pull her body to him because now she’s biting at his collarbones while playing with his belt and it’s amazing. She undoes it carelessly, yanking his pants barely down enough to free what she wants. She plays with his cock, squeezing at it roughly while Dante tries his best not to shred her pants in his haste to have her.

He lifts her up while she puts her legs around his waist and his dick almost instantly finds the already wet entrance of her cunt. She bites down on his bottom lip and digs her nails into his shoulder, rocking her hips until he can’t help but press inside of her.

He fucks her roughly, because he really doesn’t know how to do it any other way. She takes everything he gives her and begs for more. She cries out his name and claws at his skin.

She reaches behind him and he thinks she’s just feeling him up, but then there’s a click and her hand is coming back with one of his guns. He hears the clip fall to the ground as she uploads it, and he pulls away from her lips as his cock throbs inside her. He opens his eyes to find her pointing the gun straight at his face, still with a bullet in the chamber.

He leans forwards and bites down on the cold steel, the metal creaking against the force of his fangs. He feels her cunt tighten around his cock.

“Can I shoot you?” she asks, and then seems taken back by the way his eyes blow wide open. “No, you’re not ready,” she murmurs and then pulls the slide back as more bullets fall to the ground.

She brings it to his temple, presses the cool metal to his skin. “Fuck me harder Baby,” she whispers and suddenly he finds that he can’t stop.

She keeps the gun at this temple as he fucks her, as he thrusts hard and fast into her tight, willing body. He can’t say the feel of the metal doesn’t spur him on. He licks the remnants of blood from her neck and chest while she bites at his jaw and uses her free hand to claw lines upon lines of marks against his chest.

He struggles to keep it together as she starts biting at his throat. Because that’s her cue to him that she’s close, and because she knows that once she digs her teeth in and draws blood, he won’t be able to help spilling inside of her.

Her body spasms around him, and her arm holding the gun is shaking as she comes. She calls out his name and the wall behind her back turns to dust as he starts to come. She fires the gun just as the pleasure gets too much and even though it’s empty, even though the only reaction is the soft click of the empty chamber. The anticipation of more is enough to send him over the edge.

The warehouse is an even worse state once he’s had his fill of her. She just holds onto his arm for support so she can stand, nuzzling at his shoulder and smiling.

“Guns huh?” he asks later, once they’ve got their clothes back on and they’re walking back to the office.

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” she grins, “give it a little bit and soon you’ll be begging for me to blow your brains out when you come.” She laughs when her words make him stumble and make a slight moan escape from his lips. “Don’t worry,” she smirks, “just you wait and maybe I’ll give you a demonstration after the next job.”

#dmc #dmcv #dante #dante sparda #dante x reader #rev writes #my writing

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thorongil82 · 4 years

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Forgotten But Not Gone

Fandom: Pokémon

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Word Count: 5,631

Can also be read on FFN and AO3

Summary: Ten years have passed since Ash disappeared from Pallet Town, with none of his companions and rivals knowing to where he vanished to. Now, the Pokémon Masters League, an event held every 20 years, is on once again, to find the strongest trainer in the world. Hosted in the Seishi region, who will be selected to compete in such a prestigious tournament? Will the event go ahead without a hitch, in a region still feeling the effects of the ravages of war? And will a certain young trainer resurface from the void to face what has happened?

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AN: So, here’s the story I mentioned in my update.

Decided to try my hand at one of those 'Ash disappears for x amount of time and returns for a tournament' stories, with a bit of a twist to both that and the 'Ash betrayed' concepts. It's not my first Pokémon story, though technically all that's been uploaded of the other is a prologue (over on FFN), so … more or less a new endeavour.

Now, to give a quick little bit of info, the events of this story start 10 years after the end of Ash's journey in Kalos, which is where this'll deviate from canon. We are starting from that 10 years later point, and I'll be drawing back to the events in that 10 year gap throughout, whether just as an allusion or an explanation, or as a flashback. I'll explain what happens with his Alolan journeys in the story too.

I'll have a bit more to say afterwards, so, please enjoy!

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Chapter 1 - The Frontier Is Set

The Seishi region; a land that had been ravaged by constant battles and war several years ago. Yet now, they stood in a shaky time of peace. A peace where, though the battling had come to a standstill for a few years, the people are still left recovering from their ordeals. But now, a new set of battles seem poised to engulf the region …

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The brightly lit stadium at the base of Mt Daybreak illuminates the surrounding buildings and landscape, with multiple coloured beams of light shining up into the night sky. Inside, many people are excitedly chatting with one another as they shuffle their way throughout the areas, collecting tickets, food, merchandise, or simply talking about who they believe will win tonight's oncoming battle.

Through this bustling crowd walks a group of five people. Leading at the front is a rather rotund man, clad in an aqua shirt with white Pokéballs and floral patterns typical of an Alolan design. Hanging from his neck is a pristine red Pokénav, folded down and compartmentalised, though not as shiny as his tinted sunglasses. A big grin is plastered on his face as he takes in the many people.

“Looks like we've arrived on fight night,” he grins, nodding in approval at all the spectators as a couple of kids dressed up in costumes – a girl in a small suit of flimsy fabric armour and a boy with wings on his back – dash in front of the group chasing after one another.

“Seems like it,” says one of the men behind him. Despite the slight wrinkles starting to grow on due to age, his yellow hair still stands wild, while he also wears a long sage green trenchcoat , a white turtleneck underneath and a pair of brown trousers. “Think there's any chance we can join in?”

“NO!” bellows the other man beside him, causing some people around the group to jump and glace at them. Meanwhile, the former just smirks unfazed as he grabs at his gloves and tightens them. “We are not here to battle with the locals, Palmer. We are here on business.”

“Aw, come on, Brandon,” Palmer says, looking towards the loud gentleman, adorned in a big buttoned cider green jacket and matching trousers, with thick brown hair with a few strands of grey threading through. “We're here as Frontier Brains. Surely if it's a tournament, we can just register and compete as well. We are supposed to be on the look out for strong trainers to challenge our branches wherever we go. Right, Scott?”

“Well, we shouldn't have too much trouble finding strong trainers here,” the round man leading the group chuckles. “Seishi's league has built up a reputation in its short lifespan for being strong. The gym leaders are known for being tough as nails, and the Elite Four even moreso. But, I don't think that tonight's battle is one you'll be able to join in on.”

“Come on, Scott,” Palmer groans. “It'll be fine if we take care of this business quickly, right? Then we've got all the time in the world to battle.”

“Those boys and their battles,” a woman sighs, trailing behind her companions as they continue bickering. The tallest in the group, she's donned in an outfit reminiscent of a Seviper, consisting of a purple halter neck crop top that shows off her slender figure, with long purple gloves on each hand, long black pants with a golden diamond pattern around her waist, and her long jet black hair cascading down her back, save for the red lowlights in the sides down her front.

She then turns back to the last member of their group. Another woman, her long shiny lilac hair is tied up at the base of her neck with a black ribbon before billowing out down her back to her waist. She wears a slim black blazer and matching tie, with a formal white shirt underneath, with skinny pants, shoes and gloves matching the rest of her jet black clothing. The woman is glancing around, her eyes quickly moving from one person to the next, as does those of the Espeon walking beside her, occasionally brushing her tail up against the woman's legs.

“Are you alright, Anabel?” the tall woman questions, dropping back slightly to walk beside her companion.

Anabel gives her a small nod in response, still keeping her eyes focused on the people around them.

“Epee?” calls up the Espeon at her feet, looking up at Anabel.

“I'm fine, really,” she reassures her Pokémon, all the while as a gloved hand slowly reaches into a pocket in her blazer. “Just a little anxious around this many people.”

Espeon lets out a purr and brushes herself against Anabel's legs, getting a small smile to cross her trainer's face, as her companion glances around, taking in the people who were getting more and more interested in their group. Though most of that was to do with the constant groans and insisting coming from Palmer, and the occasional bellowing denial from Brandon, the two women were also picking up some of the curious gazes due to them being part of the same group.

“Yeah, there's too many eyes on us,” she sighs, closing her eyes while clenching her hand into a fist. “If only Palmer could think of anything other than battling.”

She looks over to see Anabel give a short nod as she takes her hand out of her pocket and brings out three metallic balls, before holding the arm by her side and dropping the balls. They start to drop, only to hover in mid-air in a straight vertical line.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yeah, Lucy,” she nods as the balls start slowly moving in small circular motions as her fingers individually curl and flex.

The group continue moving on until they reach a desk with a few people standing behind it, while a couple of others quickly move away. One, a man with slicked back ashen brown hair and buzzed sides, catches Scott's eye as the group approaches.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“Yes, my name is Scott, and these are Palmer, Brandon, Lucy and Anabel,” he replies, gesturing to each person as he says their names, them giving a polite nod as they are introduced, before reaching inside his shirt and pulling out a document. “We were invited here by the champion for a certain meetup.”

The attendant nods as he takes the papers and quickly looks over them, before looking back up at the group.

“Of course. If you'll all follow me?” he says, getting up from his seat, quickly leaning in to whisper something to another attendant at the desk before walking off, leading the group over to a side door and through.

The group are lead up into a lift and then through a few winding corridors until they are brought before a large door.

“Please wait in here,” the attendant says as he opens the door for them. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

He gives them a short bow and walks away, leaving the group of five to walk in.

Inside is a large room that looks a little like a repurposed conference room, with a few couches spread around the sides of the room along with several chairs set up around the room. A few tables had been pushed together in the middle, with different bowls of snacks and glasses for drinks sitting atop. Positioned at the far corner of the right wall of the room from where they came in was another door, with a tinted window stretching out along the wall, while directly opposite was a third door that seemed to lead out to a viewing box for the stadium. Finally, hanging on the wall opposite the entering group of Frontier Brains is a muted TV broadcasting someone, with a round face, a flat cap on top, and four weird spiny growths growing from their cheeks, giving their analysis of the battle to come, with another couch sitting underneath.

Also, sitting around the room are seven people. The first, a woman sitting on her own with long blonde hair stretching down her back and covering her left eye, draped in a long black cloak with jet black furry cuffs and trims, a tear drop shaped ornament hanging from the base of the v-neck, a black shirt underneath, and black formal pants. She is sitting on a couch happily licking a double scoop ice cream cone and ignoring the constant flirtations of the second, a man with red and brown hair fanned out in a spiky mane, wearing a tanned poncho-style cloak with a large collared black shirt, white pants and a chain of Pokéballs hanging round his neck. The third and fourth, a man with spiked scarlet hair and dressed in a navy blue tunic with blood orange trims and black cuffs, with matching pants and a long charcoal black cape draped over his shoulders, sitting on a couch talking to an old man with a long white bushy beard and long frizzy hair, wearing a crimson vest with a light and dark blue stripe across the middle, and a pair of khaki shorts.

The fifth, a man with teal blue hair, adorned in a white beret and cape, a teal shirt with white sleeves, and purple pants, leans up against a wall with his eyes closed and arms crossed, softly humming to himself. The sixth, a woman with a light brown star-like hair design, wearing an all white outfit consisting of a long sleeved blazer with golden trims scattered throughout with two lacy wing-like bulges sticking out of the back, a pair of short shorts, and a choker from which dangles a golden swan-shaped necklace encompassing a dazzling stone, closes her violet shadowed eyes as the seventh, another woman with pine green hair and red rimmed glasses wearing a grey suit, a white shirt underneath tied off with a thin cherry ribbon tying it off, continues to talk as she gestures to the leather-bound book in her hands. All heads swivel round to the group of five as they enter, as Scott gives them all a small wave, before a few return to what they were doing beforehand, if they were doing something in particular in the first place. With a nod to the rest of his group, Scott walks over to the scarlet haired man and the bushy bearded old man, leaving the others to their devices.

“Ah, Palmer, I take it you've been training hard since our last match?” the blonde haired woman says, looking past the man with the spiky mane.

“Of course, Cynthia,” Palmer replies, walking over to the two. “I wouldn't hesitate to challenge you to another battle. Even here and now if it would take your fancy?”

Both Brandon and Lucy sigh at Palmer's challenge as The Tower Tycoon integrates himself into the conversation with Cynthia and the Unova Champion, Alder. Brandon then heads over to join in with Scott, the joint Kanto and Johto Champion Lance, and the head of the Pokémon League, Mr Goodshow. Anabel moves over to an empty chair and sits herself down, giving her Espeon a pat with her left hand as she jumps up into the Salon Maiden's lap, while using the right to keep the three metallic balls orbiting round through the air beside her. Finally, Lucy takes up a space nearby by an empty space on the wall, keeping an eye on the room and on Anabel.

After a few moments, the door by the tinted window opens up. First through is a giant hulk of a man, large in bulk and height. His arms are as thick as tree trunks, with winding braided and rune covered tattoos weaving along each arm, while wearing a sage green jumper with rolled up sleeves, thick brown gloves on each hand, and beige overalls sitting across his chest and legs. Sitting around his forehead is a thin golden band, while his golden hair with strands of grey is slicked back, along with his neatly brushed golden beard.

The second through is a young looking woman with tanned skin and shiny silver hair tied up into a ponytail. Wearing a thin white crop top and short jeans with an aqua blue sarong wrapped around her waist, she bounces in with a smile, looking around the room. Her eyes seem to light up even more as she spots Anabel, though, when she notices the lack of recognition from the Salon Maiden, it returns to the still energetic beam from before, as she leaps over the arm rest of the couch underneath the TV and lands at the same time as the giant before her.

The third and final through, as he shuts the door behind him, is a man with dark brown skin and braided chocolate brown hair, wearing a loose sky blue t-shirt over a skintight black undershirt and baggy black tracksuit pants. He takes his place between the two that came in before him, though he remains standing up.

“I'm sorry for the wait,” the man says with a short bow. “On behalf of the Seishi Pokémon League, I welcome all of you to our home. If I may begin the introductions, the man to my right is Sheamus, one of our Elite Four members.”

He gestures to the large burly man, who gives a nod and a grin as he raises his hand in greeting.

“To my left is Hikaru, another of our Elite Four members,” he replies, gesturing to the young woman on his other side who gives everyone a big wave and flashes a large shiny smile.”

“Hiya! How're you doing?!” she beams.

“And I'm Raphael, Leader of the Elite Four and Former Champion of Seishi,” he finishes with a bow. “Should we proceed with the other introductions, or are the rest of you acquainted?”

“Oh please, allow me,” Scott says as he stands up. “If you fine folk are not aware, I'm Scott, the head of the Battle Frontier. The people I came in with are the Tower Tycoon Palmer, from our Sinnoh branch, along with the Pike Queen Lucy, Salon Maiden Anabel, and Pyramid King Brandon, all from our Kanto branch.”

Each of the Frontier Brains gives a short nod and a wave as they are mentioned, before Scott continues on with his speech.

“I would have brought someone from our Johto branch as well if I could, but I'm afraid they were all busy with challengers,” Scott chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “As for the rest, beside me is the head of the Pokémon League, Mr Charles Goodshow, and the joint Kanto and Johto Champion, Lance.”

Both give a polite nod, letting Scott get on with the introductions.

“Over by our battling veteran Palmer is the Sinnoh Champion Cynthia, and the Champion of Unova, Alder.”

Alder gives a chuckle and a wave, while Cynthia gives a kind nod before returning to her ice cream.

“Continuing on, leaning against the wall over there is the recently recrowned Hoenn Champion and Top Coordinator, Wallace.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wallace says with a smile.

“And last, but certainly not least, the duo sitting over there is the Kalos Champion and superstar of the big screen, Diantha, along with, if what I've heard is correct, her manager, Kathi Lee.”

“Yes, that's correct,” Kathi Lee confirms as she snaps her book shut, while Diantha gives a simple smile to the rest of the room.

“Now, unless anyone has anyone else to say, I'll pass over to Mr Goodshow to explain why we're here.”

“If I may,” Alder interjects as Scott finishes, leaving the many powerful trainers in the room to look over at him, “I believe we were all summoned here by the word of Seishi's Champion. So, with all due respect, why is he not here to meet with us?”

“Ah, yes, well, that was initially the plan,” Raphael begins.

“However, the plans seem to have changed a bit thanks to tonight's battle,” Sheamus continues with a low, gruff voice.

“Is tonight's battle a title match?” Wallace questions, pushing himself off the wall and standing upright.

“No, it's a battle with our absent Elite Four member,” Hikaru explains. “It just so happens that he's giving her a hand with some last minute battle preparations.”

“Our hope was that he would still be ready to discuss terms with the rest of you, but it seems like they're taking longer than expected,” Raphael continues as he takes a seat between his fellow Elite Four members. “And besides, I tend to be the one who is more involved with any administrative work anyway, so it's not too big of a loss.”

“Alright then,” Wallace concedes. “Mr Goodshow?”

“Thank you,” Mr Goodshow says as he stands up, though is cut off as Lance holds up a hand to cut him off.

“I'm sorry, Mr Goodshow, but if you'll excuse me, I'm wondering why Scott decided to bring four Frontier Brains along with him for our talks,” the Dragon Master cuts in, looking towards the slightly rotund individual.

“Well, as I said I was hoping to have a member from each branch here, to make sure whatever concerns they had, if there were any, were taken care of,” Scott explains. “As it were, there was another reason for us to come.”

“Yes, I'd heard from our Champion that you were hoping to open a Battle Frontier branch here in Seishi,” Raphael responds. “I take it you were hoping to find strong candidates through this upcoming tournament to take the place of the Frontier Brains here?”

“Indeed I was,” Scott chuckles in good nature.

“Perhaps we should explain that the people here aren't that fond of outsiders,” Sheamus points out. “Particularly if they feel they cannot trust them.”

“I have been made aware of that, both by Brandon and others who have travelled here,” Scott responds. “That's why I was hoping to build it out of people local to the region, to keep the trust of the people. At the absolute most, your Champion and I were discussing the possibility of transferring one of our Kanto branch over to help set it up, and potentially be the final challenge.”

“You were?” Lucy pipes up, the three present Kanto Frontier Brains looking over to Scott in surprise.

“Indeed,” Scott confirms. “In truth, we were going to pick between one of the three I brought here, if it was needed. Though, admittedly, there were some complications with each of you.”

“Such as?”

“Well, Brandon still wants to continue on with his research into the many ruins around the world. It would be a bit difficult to set up a new branch around a man who may not be there for a decent amount of the time.”

“That is true,” Brandon concedes.

“As for you, I'm well aware that you aren't too comfortable around a lot of new people, despite how you like to hold yourself,” Scott continues, getting a slight blush from Lucy as she turns her head away. “I'm sure you'd come if I'd ask you to, but you'd probably prefer to stay at the Battle Pike right now. Lucy doesn't give much of a response other than a short hum, keeping her head turned away to try and hide the slight blush dusting her cheeks.

“Now, Spencer was also an option, but he is starting to get on in his age, though you better not tell him I said that,” Scott finishes with a laugh. “I believe it'd be a bit rough asking him to move over if he's not wanting to, or able to, keep competing in a few years time.”

“So, that leaves Anabel,” Scott concludes, with the many eyes in the room turning towards the Salon Maiden. “Had it been quite a few years earlier, I don't think there would be any question about her capability in fronting a branch here. But, as some of you know, there are some … hurdles that still need dealing with.”

Despite the number of eyes on her, Anabel shows no sign that she heard anything that Scott had said about her, instead focusing purely giving her Espeon some scratches underneath her chin, getting a delighted purr from the Sun Pokémon while still absentmindedly spinning the three metallic balls above her gloved right hand.

“But, perhaps that conversation should be continued with the presence of the Champion,” Scott concedes, turning back to the others. “So, are there any other questions?”

No one else raises any objections, leaving Scott to turn towards Mr Goodshow.

“Well, then, Charles, if you would?”

“Thank you, Scott,” the elderly man says as he stands upright. “And thank you to the rest of you for turning up.”

“Now, as you all know, we are here to discuss terms for the Pokémon Masters League coming up in a few months. Seishi is intended to be the hosts, and for the most part the preparations will be organised between us in the Pokémon League and Seishi region authorities, along with the Wallace Cup that's to be held.”

“Yeah!” cheers Hikaru as she leaps up from her seat. “I'll be working alongside Wallace to take care of that, if that's okay with you?”

“Of course,” Wallace says with a simple nod of his head. “I'd be glad to work alongside a fellow Top Coordinator to bring this prestigious contest to life here.”

“Awesome! We're going to make this the greatest contest ever!”

“As for the rest of you, you are brought in to make sure that the conditions work with the expectations of your own League members,” Charles continues on. “Each region will take care of nominating the participants coming from their own regions. If there's someone else from another region that you believe should be a part of the competition, then that's up to you to negotiate with their corresponding region.”

“I'm guessing that, because no one from Galar is here, that you weren't able to come to terms with them?” Cynthia pipes up.

“No, I'm afraid not,” Mr Goodshow answers says with the shake of his head. “Unfortunately, Chairman Rose refused to budge on his insistence of having portable Power Spots built here in Seishi to accommodate the Dynamax phenomenon that's prevalent in Galar. As it was, the professors and scientists here opposed the decision, as they can't say what kind of effect the energy dispersed from such an energy source could have on the surrounding area.”

“Especially as they aren't too sure what the continuous effects are of the energy the land gives off anyway,” Raphael adds on. “One of our Gym Leaders is leading the research into the full effects, along with our own Pokémon Professor.”

“Wouldn't that make Seishi a dangerous place to hold the World Championships, then?” Wallace inquires.

“As far as we can tell, it doesn't seem to have any major affects on either people or Pokémon, beyond expanding the move limit a Pokémon has from four to eight,” Raphael explains.

“It also appears to make the local flora blossom at a quicker rate, and at greater levels than other regions,” Sheamus adds on. “Of course, that is purely speculation based off of my own experiences in the field.”

As the talks continue on, Anabel starts to tune the others out as she keeps her focus on her Espeon, continuing to scratch her under her chin while also floating the balls above her hand. She keeps this up for a few moments, the noise of the others' conversations fading away into the void of her mind, before a small spike seems to emanate from her mind.

'… Anabel …' a soft male voice reverberates through her head, causing her to grimace as she grabs at her temple with the hand that was rubbing Espeon. The floating balls falter in mid-air, the wider arcs tightening up as they begin to spiral back into a vertical line.

“Anabel?” a different soft voice comes from outside, as Lucy suddenly places a hand on Anabel's shoulder, also getting the attention of Brandon and Scott. “What's wrong?”

'… I'm sorry ...'

“I ...” Anabel gasps, before whimpering as her head is racked with a sudden severe pain, coursing through her brain like an intense thunderstorm constantly striking her over and over with lightning bolts.

The metallic balls floating above her hand seem to shake in the single line that they currently hold, before, with another sharp gasp of pain, they shoot off quickly in different directions, a few of the others in the room quickly diving to the ground as they hurtle away.

“Espee? Pee! Espee!” Espeon cries out, her front paws pressing up against her trainer's waist. Her cries fail to get through, though, with Anabel crouching over and placing her other hand on her temple, as the sharp jolting pain continues to surge through her brain.

“Anabel?!” Lucy calls out as she crouches next to her fellow Frontier Brain, gripping onto her shoulders with both her hands. Ripples of energy start to emanate out from the Salon Maiden, as the pulses shake and vibrate the air and ground. “Talk to me.”

“I-I … I … Ah!” Anabel manages to sputter out before another wave of pain crashes through her. In a flash of light from Anabel's belt, a Pokéball pops open with a shiny sparkle, revealing a Gardevoir of an abnormal colour; with aqua blue skin where there would normally be green and orange where there would be red.

“Gardevoir?!” Gardevoir cries out as it appears, before quickly taking its place beside Lucy, placing her hands upon her trainer's temple, the lithe limbs delicately sliding underneath the gloved hands of Anabel. “Gar? Gardevoir?!”

“It just started happening again,” Lucy explains desperately, while all she receives from the Salon Maiden is a shaky nod. Gardevoir then closes her eyes and starts to hum, as a circle of light pink energy radiates out from her.

“It's using Heal Pulse,” Diantha observes as the glowing energy created by the Embrace Pokémon starts to wash over Anabel. Her pained whimpers and gasps quickly fade away as the healing power takes hold, the pulsating pink light slowly fading away. With the last of the energy dispersing, Anabel straightens back up, a small smile on her face as a hand reaches up to cradle one of Gardevoir's.

“Thank you, my friend,” she whispers.

“Voir,” Gardevoir nods, standing upright before gliding behind her trainer. Anabel reaches down to scratch Espeon's ears as the shiny Gardevoir rests her head atop the Salon Maiden's and wraps her arms around her from behind, gaining a slight squeeze from Anabel.

“I'm alright now,” she says, albeit a little shakily, moreso to her Pokémon than to anyone else. However, as she finishes giving both Pokémon a gentle squeeze and scratch, her eyes drop down to meet Lucy's, who's still looking up at her with a worried expression.

“Are you sure?” she presses, ignoring the other eyes on them as she gets a nod from the trainer, along with an affirmative confirmation from both Espeon and Gardevoir. “Do you know what triggered it this time?”

Anabel takes in a deep breath and closes her eyes, before quickly opening them and sharply gazing over towards the tinted window.

“There's someone behind there,” she declares, causing the others to look over to the same place.

With a sigh, Raphael stands up and says, “If you'll excuse me for a moment,” before heading walking across and through the door by the window.

“Is there a problem?” Cynthia puts to the two remaining Elites as the door clicks shut behind Raphael.

“No, not at all,” Sheamus replies with a boisterous laugh. “If I had to guess, I'd say our Champion has finally arrived.”

“I guess Jeanne's preparations are done,” Hikaru muses, shuffling her body round so she is sitting with her back against the seat of the couch and her legs resting on the back.

“Was that the hurdle you were talking about?” Lance quietly asks Scott, leaning over as they keep an eye on Anabel.

“That's part of it,” Scott admits, shifting his legs back flat against the chair to get out of the way of Espeon, having jumped down off of Anabel's lap to collect up the balls that had been sent flying around the room.

“Part of it?” Lance repeats, hoping to press for more, only to be left without an answer as the door opens up again. All eyes in the room head over to the entrance as Raphael walks back in, followed closely behind by another individual.

The person accompanying Raphael has wild shoulder length hair that spikes out at random angles, with a large bang that covers the left side of his face. The right side is partially covered by a wide-brimmed hat tilted down over it, obscuring the eye while still showing off some of the scars, gashes and burns spread across his right cheek and jawline. Draped over his shoulders is a midnight black cloak with a small golden outline, closed up over his chest and stretching down to his knees. Peaking out underneath the cloak is a worn and slightly ripped pair of navy blue pants.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to present our Champion, Aaron,” Raphael introduces, who wordlessly greets the room with a tip of his hat with his right hand, revealing a seemingly sleeveless arm and a fingerless glove with a small round cerulean gem embedded into the back. Anabel almost swears she sees his head shift slightly in her direction while he had his hat tipped, only for it to return upright in the blink of an eye.

“Jeanne's all ready to go?” Sheamus asks, getting another silent response as the Champion nods.

“Well, it is nearly time for the battle to start,” Raphael muses aloud while glancing over to the TV screen, the camera image having switched to the battlefield as the noise of the crowd outside starts to pick up. “Seeing as we've pretty much taken care of everything we need to, why don't you all stick around and watch the battle? There's a private viewing box through that door that we Elites tend to use for challenges here.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Alder accepts, along with the Frontier Brains and Champions, save for Diantha who glances towards her manager. “I guess it can fit in our schedule,” Kathi Lee says after a short beat, having looked through her journal. “But we're leaving if it starts to take too long. You need to get back for a shoot in Lumiose City tomorrow.”

Diantha lets out a little giggle as she gets up, along with the others, and they start to make their way over to the door, with Sheamus opening the door for them. Both Alder and Palmer dart over to the tables to grab some food, both getting a bowl of different flavoured chips, while Lucy grabs a cup of tea for both her and Anabel. Diantha also skips back over to the table and cuts herself a big slice of the chocolate cake sitting there, much to the dismay of her manager, before being joined by Cynthia.

“You guys go ahead,” Scott says, mainly addressing his Frontier Brains as he and Mr Goodshow move over towards Aaron and Raphael instead.

“We've still got a few more details to go over with our host here,” Mr Goodshow explains.

The others all nod as they walk on through. Anabel lags behind at the door, as does Lucy who is keeping an eye on the Salon Maiden, as she pulls out a Pokéball, enlarges it, and starts to aim it at her Gardevoir, only to stop as Gardevoir shakes its head.

“You want to stay out?”

“Voir,” Gardevoir answers with a nod.

“Okay,” she concedes, before minimising the ball and placing it back on her waist.

“Espee,” Espeon pipes up as she comes over, eyes gleaming in a pale blue light as the three metallic balls that were scattered earlier float back up to Anabel, each outlined in the same blue light.

“Thank you, Espeon,” Anabel says with a small smile, taking the balls and pocketing them inside her blazer. As she does, she glances back over her shoulder, spotting Aaron expressionlessly looking in her direction along with Raphael and Scott, the latter giving her a smile and a nod, while Mr Goodshow seems to be caught up on the footage on screen.

'You were the one in my head, right?' Anabel contemplates as her eyes seem to catch with Aaron's, barely seeing his left through the thicket of hair obstructing it. There almost seems to be a slight shimmer flickering in that eye, as their gazes lock onto each other's.

'Why? What do you-?'

“Anabel?” Lucy speaks up, breaking the Salon Maiden out of her thoughts.

With a shake of her head, she lets out a breath before walking out into the spectator box, accepting Lucy's offered cup of tea with a short thanks as they pass through together, with Hikaru the last to leave, sliding the door shut behind her. With that door shut, the door by the window opens back up, with a Pikachu swinging in by the handle. Dropping down, the yellow Mouse Pokémon darts across the floor before climbing up Aaron's back, sitting up on his right shoulder.

“Pika pi,” Pikachu sadly says, his ears drooping down as he glances to the Champion. “Pikachu?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Aaron softly answers, giving his partner a nod and a short pat between his ears.

“Pika …”

“Couldn't help yourself, eh Champ?” Raphael sighs.

“She hasn't …?” Aaron inquires, directing it towards Scott.

“No,” he replies with a shake of his head. “Anabel still hasn't regained her memories.”

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AN: Well, I wonder who that could be …

So, yeah, part of why I was wanting to write this story was to play around a bit with the concept of Anabel having amnesia, which was brought in in S&M. With some differences, of course.

Now, the next chapter was going to be people - particularly Ash's former companions - finding out if they've been invited to compete in the tournament. That'll still be a chapter, but maybe not the next depending on what you guys want. I'm giving you all the option as to if you want the planned next chapter to be next, or if you'd rather read the battle between the challenger and the other Elite Four member, Jeanne. The challenger was initially going to be between 3 people, but now down to 2. Alder was one of my options, but I decided against it. Otherwise, there would have been a different champion representing Unova. 1 guess as to who that is. So, by all means let me know if you've got a preference.

Also, please feel free to let me know what you think so far. Thoughts, feedback, analysis, predictions, suggestions, all are welcome. I'm happy for people to suggest OCs for contenders in the tournament - I can't promise that they'll last - or even if there's a particular ship you want to see. I make no promises it'll be there, and I'm not budging on 2 ships that will be happening in the story. Beyond that, anything could happen.

I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as I can. Obviously that'll depend on what's coming next, so, until then, adios!

#pokemon #fanfiction #fanfic #ash ketchum #pokemon fanfic #my writing #forgotten but not gone #anabel #lila #satoshi #pikachu #battle frontier #abilityshipping

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little-writings · 5 years

Text

Jumin Week: Day 3 {AU}

Desperate to bring your wish to life, you summon a demon in search of a trade.

Word Count: 1,489

Ah! I’m so sorry I missed Day 2, the wip is still in my drafts so perhaps after all this, I’ll post it or do a double upload at some point but I did manage to finish this! I really like the result and might consider continuing the AU in a multi-part story series! Let me know if you like the idea! :)

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy and have a marvelous day <3

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“Alright... that’s it... I’m done.”

You took a few steps back from the sigil painted in dark crimson along your floorboards. It hurt a bit to think about cleaning up the mess later, but you shoved it to the back of your mind.

Scrambling for the sheets of paper on your counter, you only worried for a second about how exceedingly easy it’d been to find a supposed demon-summoning spell on the internet.

But then again, it was the internet.

The website was old, maybe from the very dawn of desktop computers, but your friend told you that if you really wanted to meet a demon, this was the way to go.

“If I... if I want to summon a demon...” You took in a sharp, nervous breath, crumbling a bit of the paper between your fingers.

You stared back at the sigil, puffing out your cheeks indignantly.

“If I’m going to spend all day tomorrow cleaning this up -- may as well have someone to help me!”

You lit the candles surrounding the symbol and your dimly-lit lamps sent light dancing about your apartment in warm ribbons. You settled down before the sigil and sighed.

Time to get started.

Your voice began slow and steady, little confidence, but little else to do otherwise. Your ancient Latin could’ve been better, admittedly, but who was about to shame you for not learning a dead language?

Eventually, your confidence grew. Your words became louder and your heart pounded with excitement. And soon enough, with fear.

Your lamps started to rattle, the ground beneath you trembled, and glasses stumbled from your cupboards to shatter to a thousand pieces on the ground below.

Every inch of the Earth -- each nook and cranny to the most insignificant detail -- shook. Like an earthquake destroying everything in its path, you thought your home would be in shambles at any second.

But instead, there was light. It streamed from the candles and warped around the sigil like a blanket, secure and shielding to the world around it -- rushing like wind and as fierce as a storm.

Yet despite it all, for the briefest moment, you could see something -- someone.

And they could see you.

In a burst of light, you were slammed back against the counter. A scream barely managed to escape you before whatever air remained was snatched from your lungs.

You sputtered up coughs in the surprisingly well-kept together remains of your apartment.

It was a mess, yes, enough to make tears brim in your eyes if you let the thought fester, but it was still clearly your apartment, and that was enough.

You sat up, heaving in exhaustion, the papers you’d clung so fervently to now sprawled down the hall in disastrous clusters.

Yet that was far from the thing that caught your attention. The demon in your living room won that competition.

Of all things, the demon wore a pinstripe suit, a purple tie slipping from the collar of his shirt to beneath the jacket. Inky black veins crawled along his skin, not quite bulging, but rippling and pulsing beneath the flesh in a way that sent a chill down your spine.

Horns sprouted from his head, consisting of the sort of twists and turns a stag might have in all its ornate grandeur, a deep jet black devolving to a dusty gray upon its end.

The demon’s eyes of platinum stared you down curiously, his hands mindlessly fiddling with his cuff-links.

“You...” Barely a single, coherent thought came through your head. Maybe you were petrified by his steely expression and overwhelming presence -- or there was always the possibility that you were an idiot -- but you spoke on impulse.

“You trashed my apartment!”

The being’s brow furrowed and he looked around, observing.

“Well, what do you expect from such a sloppy summoning.” He gestured to the red paint, his voice deep and silvery smooth with a rumble almost akin to a purr. “You didn’t even use proper blood.”

“Oh sorry, I’m not some weirdo who harbors blood for a hobby!”

The demon pursed his lips, frowning. “No, you’re simply someone who summons a demon for a hobby?”

You tried to snap back but found yourself at a loss for words.

“Touche,” You wrinkled your nose. “but I summoned you for a reason!”

“Of course you did,” He knelt down, settling his chin in his palm, studying you. “Why else do humans call us for but in hopes of a deal?”

“Well...” He leaned closer, just before the end of the sigil but just close enough for his breath to brush your skin.

Everything else ceased to matter. You couldn’t focus on anything else even if you tried.

“Y-You’re not even going to give me a name to call you by?”

“It’s usually irrelevant,” The demon remarked. “Why do you care?”

“It’s just manners!” You huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “You know, a good first impression can only do good! T-That’s what I-I was taught!”

“Hm...”

You felt like an ant under a microscope, so utterly tiny and defenseless in his wake.

“I suppose that’s fair enough.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his gaze glinting with interest.

“You can call me Jumin.” The ends of his lips tipped upwards just so to reveal fangs, sharp and sleek. “And you?”

You swallowed hard. “MC.”

“Well MC, what is it that your heart desires?”

You took in a deep breath, your nails raking against the floor in your splintering nerves.

“I...” You forced yourself to lock eyes with him as you spilled out your confession. “I want to be your friend!”

Jumin’s collected expression broke in an instant and he gawked at you in sheer, total bewilderment. “What?”

“Well I-I started researching about you -- demons in general, I mean -- last year! I-It was just out of interest at first but the more I read...” You bit the inside of your cheek sheepishly. “the more I understood how absolutely lonely you must be.”

He watched you but didn’t speak in return.

“All you do is look for the next soul to take -- you don’t even get a second chance at life -- the life that failed you!” You softened and a true sincerity painted your words. “The life that put you in the exact same position I am; bargaining my soul with a demon for a dream.”

Jumin tensed, like a needle seeping into the skin you pricked him at just the right spot.

You eased forward, closer to the sigil.

“I want you to have a chance at the life you deserve -- a life you can enjoy, appreciate, and remember -- for all the right reasons..”

Jumin found himself utterly vulnerable as you offered him a smile, sweet and kind in a way almost foreign to him.

“And everyone deserves a friend in their life.”

His eyes widened and he stared at you like one may gaze upon a sunrise or fireworks -- awe-inspired.

It was as if for the first time in ages, Jumin could feel his heart beating.

“Why would you want to do that? You’ll simply end up in the same place I am. If this existence truly is so lonely, why are you so ready to accept it for a complete stranger?”

You grinned.

“Because hopefully by the end of this, I’ll have a friend to make my new life... not so lonely.”

His lips parted in an effort to speak but he couldn’t even begin to find the words to say.

“You’ll take my soul in ten years, but we’ll have each other for the rest of time.”

You reached out your hand, past the sigil and into his space. You were at his mercy and of all things, Jumin was taken aback, shifting away.

“And what if I prefer my empty eternity?” He asked, just barely above his breath, hesitant.

“Then I guess I’ll get used to my own. My soul is still yours.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What more can I do here?” You laughed. “You don’t have to take my soul if you don’t want to.”

His expression knotted, glancing at your outstretched palm, opening his own but not quite closing the distance.

“Are you sure you want this?”

You nodded. “As long as you want another chance at life, I want to help make that happen.”

You reaffirmed yourself, mustering all your remaining courage.

“So... Jumin, do we have a deal?”

The demon became reluctant, staring at the throbbing coal veins under his skin, the inhumanity consuming him from head to toe.

A second chance at life?

A second chance at a life worth living?

How could anyone reject that?

He took your hand and clasped it tightly, like the last tether clinging to him upon the edge of a cliff. Light overtook the room in a swell of warmth once more. You couldn’t see a thing, but you most certainly heard him speak.

“Deal.”

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ventrue-rosary · 5 years

Text

A Flower of a Different Colour

A re-upload of this post since its broken on tumblr mobile

Autumn is mine, Kevir belongs to @theravensprince

Ko-Fi

Beepbebebeep! Beepbebebeep!

Autumn flings her arm ungracefully out to the alarm obnoxiously intruding upon her morning. Her fingers scrabble for the off-button, leaving her in blessed silence.

She rolls over with a sigh, her eyes peeking open. The digital clock reads 6:30.

Autumn stretches her sleep-heavy arms and sits up, rubbing at her swollen eyes. As always, she crosses her bedroom to her windowsill, watering her cacti, succulents and pot of creeping ivy climbing up the wall next to her window. She smiles as she gently traces the leaves with her hands. Satisfied with her work, she readies herself for the day. By 7:30 she is out of her apartment, and making her way to work. Though young, she is the proud owner and worker of her own florist shop: A Rose Without Thorns. She opens shop as the sleepy neighbourhood rouses, workers sleepily stumbling to their workplace and parents sheparding their children to school.

As with most weekdays with no major holidays on the horizon, the morning crawls by, only a few of her regulars coming by for a single flower or pot or just for a chat. As usual, her mother stops by late morning for a bouquet of roses and to drop off some of her favourite snacks. By lunch time, work crawls by to a complete stop, but it does give her time to perfect the arrangements of the flowers outside, then slowly work her way through the inside of the shop.

The bell above the door rings. Autumn looks up from her work to see someone a far cry from her usual clientèle.

A purple winged tiefling steps into her establishment; black jeans, black leather jacket and black combat boots that stomp heavily across the wooden floor. Tousled hair perfect frames his angular face, and impossibly dark eyes sweep across the room until they find Autumn.

She then realises she is still knelt on the floor, openly staring.

‘Oh--’ She averts her gaze and jumps to her feet, smoothing down the frills of here mini-apron as she hurries behind the counter.

‘Welcome! Let me know if I can help you with anything.’

‘I’m looking to buy flowers for a pretty girl,’ he says, his voice pleasant and accented.

‘Oh? How lovely! Do you know what kind of flowers she likes?’ Her shoulder unclench as some of the anxiety drains from her body. If he came to make trouble he likely already would have done so.

‘Not yet. What would you recommend?’

‘Roses are always a safe bet. Red roses, if it's a romantic gesture. You see, different colour roses have different meaning behind them. Pink for friendship, orange for familial bonds, white for purity and spirituality--’ She tapers off with a blush as she beholds his amused smile. ‘Sorry, I’m rambling.’

‘That's alright. I was enjoying listening to you.’

Autumn feel her blush deepen.

He picks up a large red bouquet. ‘May I ask your name?’ he asks as he hands her the money.

‘Huh? I-oh. My names Autumn.’

‘Autumn? Fitting. I’m Kevir. Keep the change.’

‘O-ok, thank you.’

He grins at her one last time before he leaves her shop, leaving a very flustered Autumn.

As 5pm rolls around, Autumn begins to close shop, still thinking about her encounter with Kevir. She doesn't like to think of herself as judgemental, but she had thought of him as trouble when he first walked in. How wrong she had been.

She finds herself wondering about the girl he mentioned. She hopes she appreciated his gift.

Autumn double checks the doors are locked and turns around--right into Kevir. She squeals in shock, nearly falling right to the ground.

‘S--sorry!’

‘I didn't mean to scare you. I did call your name a few times, didn't you hear me?’

She notices Kevir still holds the bouquet of flowers in his hands.

‘Oh, did you want to return them? I’m sorry, you’ll have to return tomorrow--I just closed up.’

‘No, I didn't want to return them--I wanted to give them to you.’ He holds out the flowers to her

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I bought them for you. Take them.’

‘T-thank you?’

He gives her a wink and walks away, eventually heading into the tattoo parlour further down the road.

When Autumn examines the bouquet in her hands she spots writing on the card:

07113246589

Call me! ; )

-Kevir

Autumn makes a noise of disbelief. He couldn't be serious. He isn’t. Is he? She shoves the card in her bag before making her way home.

The TV drones on in the background, going unnoticed by Autumn who stares at the roses that have found a home in the vase on her coffee table. She glances at her bag across the sofa.

She abruptly drags her eyes away, trying to focus on the drama playing on the screen. Trying and failing.

Autumn snatches her bag and drags it over to her, pushing aside her purse, makeup and the snacks her mother had given her until she finds the small, crumpled card.

She smoothes it over her thigh as she holds her phone in her other hand. Her finger hesitates over the digits on her screen as doubt begins to cloud her judgement.

‘Oh just do it,’ she hisses at herself

She dials before she changes her mind. Each enduring trill of the ringtone quickens her heartbeat. Then it stops with a click. She holds her breath.

‘Hello?’

Autumn hangs up with a scream. Her head falls into her palms with a groan. She has basically committed social suicide with this guy. A good-looking seemingly kind man interested in her and she screamed down the phone at him.

The ringing and vibrating of her phone draws her attention back to her coffee table, Kevir’s number displayed on the screen.

She watches it ring in silent panic until it stops. She breathes in relief. Then it rings again. She turns off her phone, ending the predicament altogether. She likely had already put him off, what further harm could she do by ghosting him?

Autumn hugs her knees to her chest, wishing she had the courage to hold a conversation with him. She let's herself fall limp on her side, still clutching her knees. Eventually, sleep finds her.

Autumn returns to work the following morning, business as usual minus her sullied mood. She is still mad at herself for being an awkward coward.

Around 2 hours after she opened, Kevir enters. A thousand emotions fly through her at once at their meeting, mostly abstract fear.

‘O-oh , mood gorn--good morning!’

‘Morning yourself.’ He leans his elbows on the counter, mere inches away from her. ‘Did you, uh, did you call me last night?’

‘H-huh?’ Her voice is a few octaves higher than usual. ‘No, of course not!’

‘Oh,’ Kevir deflates. ‘I see.’

‘I--I mean, I wanted to!! I, um, I dropped my phone yesterday. Screen-down, it shattered, totally unusable.’

Kevir doesn't look convinced. Of course he isn’t, she's a terrible liar.

‘I’m… I’m glad you came to see me today.’ Autumn’s changing of subject is likely very obvious, but at least she is speaking honestly now.

‘I’m glad to see you.’ His smile is disarming. ‘Say, wanna get lunch together?’

‘Y-yes I would like that.’ She smiles shyly, toying with her hair to avoid looking him in the eye.

‘Perfect. See you in a few hours.’

Autumn doesn't look up until she hears the bell jingle as he leaves, the smile still stuck on her face.

She looks up at the clock. Midday can’t come soon enough.

Kevir returns around 12, and Autumn feels her heart flutter as he enters.

‘Ready?’

‘One moment!’ She pulls on her apron strings, folding it onto the chair behind the counter. She fetches her shoulder bag from the back room and takes a moment to check her reflection. She shakes her bangs and uses her fingers to even them out over her brow, smoothes down her hair and applies just a bit of lip gloss. She only wishes she had worn something a bit more exciting than a white blouse and black mini-skirt.

‘OK, ready!’

‘Let's go. I know a little place.’

Kevir takes her to a cute cosy cafe a few blocks down, named The Pot and the Kettle. Not many patrons inside, but it means they can snag the cosiest chairs; two impossibly soft, large armchairs close to the fire with a large table between them. Being a rather tepid spring, there is no fire but there is still something comforting about it.

A cute elven waitress takes their orders. Kevir orders black coffee and a slice of chocolate cake. Autumn asks for a white chocolate mocha and matcha pound cake.

Kevir tilts his head at her order. ‘Sweet tooth?’

‘Very much so! I love sweets, chocolate and baked goods… Oh that must seem childish.’

‘Not at all! Food doesn’t have an age limit. I have a soft spot for them myself.’

The waitress returns with their orders. ‘Let me know if I can get you anything else,’ she says in a husky purr, talking exclusively to Kevir.

‘Thanks,’ Kevir answers, giving her only a cursory, polite look.

He takes off his leather jacket, revealing his tattoo sleeves. Autumn daintly gasps as she beholds the artwork displayed in his skin; twisting, connected pieces of dragons, weaponry like arrows, tortured faces, skulls and even some flowers interlocked and interwoven into one overarching gothic scene. The collar of his shirt is open enough to see the tip of a black feathered wing brushing just beneath his collarbone.

‘You have so many tattoos,’ she says in awe, reaching out for his skin before remembering herself. ‘Ah, I’m sorry!’

Her hands returns to her lap, where she tugs and fiddled with the rings on her fingers.

Kevir laughs in response, straightening his arms out on the table for her. ‘It’s alright. Touch me if you like.’

Autumn hesitantly reaches out with one hand, the other clutched into a fist over her chest. Her index fingers brushes against the smooth skin of his forearm. Where the tattoos are, the skin is slightly raised, but still just as soft. Her finger follows the design of the sleeve down to the back of his hand, impossibly smooth.

‘No one has hands this soft!’ The words slip out of her mouth before she can stop herself. ‘Oh God, that was a very weird thing to say...sorry. I just…’

Kevir rotates his hand on top of hers, smoothing his fingers over her skin. ‘Your hands are this soft.’

She glances up shyly, her flustered mind failing to come up with a response. She slides her hand out from under his, returning it to her lap, once more fidgeting with her rings. What is happening here?

‘Did it hurt?’ she asks after a short silence, still staring at his arms.

‘A little. Tattoos don’t hurt as much as everyone thinks they will. Would you like one?’

‘Eh!?’

‘I’ll give you one for free if you give me some flowers. How about it?’

‘...Could I choose what to get?’

‘Of course. And where you get it.’

‘O-ok...I guess I could get a little one somewhere...a flower maybe?’

‘Perfect! We’ll do it tomorrow.’

‘T-tomorrow? So soon?’

‘Would you rather wait?’

‘No, no tomorrow is fine.’ Her heart thunders in her chest as she says those words. Autumn has never had good experiences with needles. ‘What kind of flowers would you like?’

‘Hmm…’ Kevir drums his fingers as he considers. ‘Surprise me. Get me some flowers you think I’d like.’

He reclines in his chair with an easy smirk, Autumn’s mind already firing off numerous ideas for species and colours.

She smiles as an idea occurs to her. ‘I think you’ll like what I have planned.’

‘Am I that easy to read?’ He sounds amused.

‘I mean...when I first saw you I thought you were going to be some ruffian who would make some trouble for me or destroy my shop’

Kevir looks less amused now, quizzing her with a raised eyebrow.

‘I’m sorry! I was wrong to be so judgemental! I don’t usually get many young people in my shop, And you carried yourself with such confidence, almost cocky. Clearly I read you wrong. So no, not easy to read…’

‘And what do you think of me now?’

He’s enjoying this, she realises. She is so very obviously crushing on him.

‘Um…’ Her fingers clench into fists as they clutch the soft material of her skirt. ‘Well, I don’t know you very well, but obviously you are very kind, a-and…’

‘You’re right, you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Swap stories?’

‘I’m not terribly interesting…’ she murmurs, her hnads clenching even tighter.

‘I’m sure I would disagree. Tell me about yourself.’

She takes a deep breath. ‘Well, you know my name is Autumn. My parents, half-elf and tiefling live on the outskirts of the city. My mother is a model, my father her bodyguard. I have a twin brother in university. I like cute animals, sweet food and flowers. See? Not interesting…’

‘You're so cute.’ Kevir smiles genuinely, his head tilted as he stares at her. ‘Your mother is a model?’

Autumn nods, blushing. ‘My mother is Amaranthe Darcelle. You might have heard of her.’

‘Your mother is Amaranthe Darcelle? That must be where you got your beauty.’

‘Beauty?’ Autumn sputters.

Kevir nods. Autumn takes a large swig of her coffee, trying to buy herself some time as she tries to think of some sort of response.

She places her cup back on its saucer. ‘I, um. I think you're very handsome.’

‘Thank you. It makes me happy you think that.’

‘So you never told me about yourself,’ she says, busying herself with her cake to avoid having to look him in the eye. At this rate she was going to explode.

‘You’re in luck. I love talking about myself to beautiful women.’ Kevir reclines in his chair with a smile.

Autumn let's out a gasp as she looks at the clock. ‘It’s already been two hours??’

Kevir follows her gaze to the clock, looking as shocked as she feels. ‘It really doesn't feel like its been that long.’

‘Uhm, bill, please!’ She calls to the waitress. ‘I should be getting back to my shop.’

‘As should I.’

The waitress puts down a small silver tray with their bill on top. Kevir shakes his head at her as she pulls out her purse.

‘Put that away. I’m paying.’

‘I should at least pay for myself…’

‘This was my idea. So it’ll be my treat.’

‘Ok, thank you.’

They hover for a moment outside the cafe, neither really wanting to go back to work.

‘Thanks for today. I had fun getting to know you,’ Autumn said.

‘And I you.’

Kevir leans down closer and presses a soft, chaste kiss on her cheek. Autumn let's out a small gasp as her entire body freezes. The heat crawls up her neck up to her face and even her ears.

Kevir clears his throat. ‘I’m sorry. I should have asked first. I’ll see you tomorrow?’

He stumbles off without awaiting her reply. Autumn slowly raises one hand to her cheek, caressing the space his lips had just touched.

‘See you soon,’ she whispers absently to empty air.

Autumn takes a bunch of white roses home with her, remembering her deal with Kevir. She sets up large glasses of dye; black, purple and blue, cuts open the stems and evenly divided the rose's between them. Curling up on the sofa, she stares at the roses, hoping he will like them, until the call of sleep is too strong to ignore.

The next day arrives, bringing with it sunshine and happy thoughts. Autumn hums a small tune to herself as she goes about her morning routine, all her thoughts focused on yesterday's...date? Was it a date? Is it too early or presumptuous to call it such?

Autumn ties the rose's together with a red ribbon, tying it into an attractive bow. Then she sets off for the day, making her way past her shop to the tattoo parlour several doors down, Devil’s Ink. The outside certainly has a gothic look, coffin-shaped windows the opening hours painted gold onto the glass. Pushing open the heavy door, she comes onto a wooden-floored room, dimly lit by two low-hanging chandeliers. Heavy metal music thumps through the speaker system.

A bored-looking human with bubblegum pink hair mans the dark wooden counter, fingers jabbing away at her phone screen.

‘Um, excuse me?’

She does a double take at Autumn. Dressed in pink frills and a petticoat she probably is a far cry from their usual clientele.

‘Yes, sweetie? How can I help?’

‘Is Kevir here?’

‘One sec.’

She picks up a phone, which Autumn assumes is part of an internal communication system.

‘Yeah, Kevir? Some girl is here to see you, too much pink, wings--hello?’ She hangs up with a sigh. ‘He’ll be down in a minute.’

Autumn watches the set of stairs, which is in fact a two flights that lead to the same balcony, nervously thumbing the petals of her dyed roses.

Kevir appears moments later, jogging down the stairs with glee.

‘Hello, Autumn. You're earlier than I thought you'd be.’

‘Oh, sorry. I guess I’m used to the life of an early bird now.’ She holds out the bouquet of flowers to him. ‘These are for you!’

‘Thank you! Are these...did you dye them?’

She nods with a touch of pride. ‘Yep. I thought you might like them.’

‘I do. Have you thought about a tattoo designs?’

‘I did. And I thought I’d pick one of your designs. I-if that's ok?’

‘Of course. I’m flattered. Follow me.’

He leads her up the stairs into a private room. A large leather reclining chair takes up most of the centre of the room, set up next to Kevir’s workstation. On the left-hand wall a black leather sofa is set up in front of a long, narrow coffee table, bare except for a heavy folder.

Peeking at the walls, she sees countless upon countless of designs, some black and white, other full colours. All of them more magnificent than the next.

Autumn looks about in awe, Kevir watching her with light amusement.

‘You see anything you like, let me know.’

She nods, her eyes still taking in her breathtaking surroundings. Eventually she settles down on the sofa, flicking through his partfolio. She finds each and every one wonderful in its own way but one above all others draws her in. An open pocketwatch swinging on its chain, wrapped around by roses and thorns stems, a few butterflies taking flight away. It is nothing short of perfection.

‘See something you like?’

She jumps, not realising Kevir is leaning on the back of the sofa to her side, peering down over her shoulder.

‘A nice choice. Also none of my other customers have chosen it, so it’ll be unique. Now, where would you like it?’

Autumn pats the upper half of her left arm. ‘Here…’ Then realisation dawns. Her chosen outfit, though lovely in appearance just had one problem--wherever she chose to have a tattoo, something had to be taken off.

‘Alright, I’ll get the ink and stencil ready. Just sit on the chair when you’re ready.’

‘R-right.’

Autumn walks over to the chair, hitching herself up on it, wondering if she should take her shirt off now or wait until prompted.Her heart thuds in her chest as she considers it. No one, not ever, has seen her in her underwear before.

She decides to do it as she waits, now Kevir’s back is turned to her. She pulls the bow around her collar loose, then undoes the buttons on by one, letting it slide off her shoulders and pool around her waist.

Kevir turns on the chair to face her. ‘Ok are you--’

His words stop as he looks at her, his eyes dropping from her face down to her torso. She feels suddenly very embarrassed and has to stop herself from wrapping her arms around herself. Kevir quickly regains his composure, pushing a cushioned stand for her to rest her arm on as he gets to work.

He presses the stencil to her arm, gets her to check the size and placement. After a few minor adjustments, he pulls out the needle, and her courage seems to fail her. Her breath becomes heavy and laboured, unable to take her eyes off the implement in his hand.

‘All those are going into my arm?’

‘Are you having second thoughts?’

‘N-no.’

‘Are you sure? Once I start I can’t stop unless you want an incomplete tattoo on your arm.’

‘No, it’s fine. Go ahead.’

Four hours and many shed tears later, Autumn now has a fresh and wrapped tattoo on her arm.

‘I’m sorry for crying. That was embarrassing.’

‘It’s alright. I know it’s a scary and painful thing. A lot of first timers cry.’ He gently wipes away her residual tears away, his fingers lingering on her skin. ‘I’ve had big, burly grown men cry harder than you.’

She laughs softly through her sniffles. ‘Thank you.’

‘Take it easy for the rest of the day, Autumn. Wash it in two hours time, then wash it and pat dry twice a day.’ He hands her a small, white tub. ‘Apply that after you’ve washed it.’

‘Ok, thank you.’ With some difficulty due to her sore and quite tightly wrapped arm she begins to pull her shirt back on.

‘Here, let me help you.’ Amusement tugs at the corner of his lips. He pulls the shirt up onto her shoulders, fingers tracing every so slightly across her collarbone as he fastens the top button.

‘Oh you don’t have to…’ she trails off when his fingers brush against her skin, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Then it is over all too quickly, Kevir cleaning his tattoo gun as though he hadn't fastened her shirt. She lingers awkwardly for a moment before she slides off the chair.

‘I’ll see you out.’

He takes both of her hands in his once they are outside, taking a moment to stare in her eyes before he leans in to kiss her cheek. Autumn frees one of her hands from his and places it on the side of his face, pulling him in for a kiss on the lips. They remain interlinked there, arms wrapping around each other as their lips lock together.

Once they part, they are breathless and she feels dizzy. Her eyes remain closed for a few seconds after, savouring the lingering feeling of his lips on hers.

When she opens her eyes, she meets Kevir’s, dark and alluring as a moonless night.

‘Your eyes are beautiful,’ she breathes.

‘Not as beautiful as yours. See you tomorrow?’ he asks hopefully.

She nods, beaming. ‘See you tomorrow.’

#Autumn Darcelle #Kevir Pride #tattoo/florist AU #my writing

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blankdblank · 6 years

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Back Again Pt 3

Pt 1 - Pt 2

Tags –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @abiwim, @jotink78, @c-s-stars, @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @thequeenoferebor

…

Curiously your eyes focused on the large bright green demantoid garnet square stone surrounded by six other square black opals wrapped in lines of diamonds resting on your finger. It sat underneath the simple courting band coated in etchings of ravens and Dwarven runes marking his name and clan markers you’d tearfully removed and dropped onto the floor in his angered shout to ‘just leave then and forget him and his kin’ before your turn to slam the door. The painful loss of that ring linking you to the only family you’d known stabbed greater than you’d ever imagined with the sound of its clink on that shining floor echoing in your mind almost daily since then. Wetting your lips you shifted and slid to the edge of the bed and brushed back the covers to walk through the house at the sounding of the doorbell after the text that had woken you.

Through the main hall you spotted Dis through the glass panes around the front door with a growing smile as you brushed your hair from your face and opened the door. “Dis, morning, did you want some tea?”

She shook her head, “No, sorry to wake you, just wanted to stop by real quick and possibly see if you could look at something for me?”

You nodded as she stepped inside the doorframe showing you the bound manuscript in her hands barely an inch thick and asked, “It’s called Tortimer the ornate wonder. Bit grand of a name but it really is adorable, little girl who finds an imaginary friend that takes her through her dream world after a Kelpie takes her. Really adorable, we got it a few weeks back and our illustrators really can’t find images that live up to the author’s expectations.” She wet her lips as you met her eyes again, “Now he dropped by yesterday and he spotted your picture in my office, simply demanded to work with only you.”

You nodded and claimed the book, “I’ll give it a read through, just the chapter illustrations and front intro pages?”

She nodded as her smile grew in passing you a worn folder containing pages of poor copies of sketches and doodles from the author after catching a glimpse of your rings. “From the author. Said you’d just know what to make of them.”

You smirked at her after flipping through them then met her gaze again, “Shouldn’t take me long too read through it. I’ll draft up what I can for him.”

She claimed a quick hug from you, “Thank you, so much! Let me know when you get a few and I’ll pass on copies to him, he’s scheduled a meeting at the end of the week. Eager, but at least he’s been patient with our team in waiting for a suitable illustrator.”

You smiled at her as she turned to head off to work, “Have a nice day. Go ahead and pass it on to him if he calls. I’ll keep you posted.” As she hopped into her car she gave you a wave as Vili was still hunched over securing the ties on his shoes in the passenger seat before he glanced up giving you a friendly wave. Waving back you slipped inside again and locked the door behind you on your path to start on your breakfast, ignoring the usual ache in your body adjusting to the new weight on your chest focusing on the manuscript.

By the time your plate was cleared you had a flurry of ideas flowing through your head. Quickly you rinsed your dishes and added them to the dishwasher then carried the papers to your bedroom. Against a stack of pillows you lounged with your tablet in your lap leaving your laptop Dis had gifted you, to help you upload your work to the company server aiding your work at home, beside you to save each of the images in order. A growl of your stomach signaled you to the lunch you nearly missed. Your tongue dipped out to wet your lips as you sent the last image to join the others you added to your account with a message you sent to Dis alerting her to the additions on your path to the kitchen.

By you return you read through her glowing review of the images along with the eager drop by the office the author had made leading him to tears nearly at your perfect renditions of the first half of the book. Ones that were soon joined by the second half by nightfall shifting the book to nearly double the size to add in the images the author demanded be included, wishes that the entire company agreed upon when seeing the skills of their new hire. Those images stirred up a race to go through your extensive list of books and company projects you had worked with leaving the entire team, including Dis, baffled at what you had grown capable of bringing to life since the last project you had seen completed before graduation had separated you.

The naming of your place in the company brought on a few of your former coworkers calling you and wishing you well in your new position after asking why you had been forced out of your spot. Unable to share that just yet you simply stated you were unwell and had to return home to be with family, the only response being their irritation at not giving them notice at having to take over your projects that soon cut off as a good number of clients left when they heard you had left the company.

With dinner time nearing the front door opened allowing Thorin inside to find you seated on your bed after moving the laptop and tablet to the dresser along the wall, grumbling as you tried to stretch your stiff back. An easy smile spread on his face as he paused in your doorway lowly rumbling, “Need a back rub?”

In a glance at the door you smiled up at him saying, “Yes, please. Spent too long in one position I think.”

Allowing his bag to slide form his shoulder he said, “Brought a few things, hope you don’t mind.” Setting it on the dresser on his way to sit behind you, leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek as his hands gently slid onto your shoulders.

“I don’t mind, thought you might be bringing more than just a bag with the ring you left me.”

Unable to contain his smile catching a glimpse of it when you retwisted your hair into another bun allowing him to see the muscles you had that had lost some of their size in your bed rest and recovery. “I wouldn’t assume I had the right to, no matter what I gifted you. I do hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t think of a better time to hand it over. Besides, by all accounts you should have had it by now if I hadn’t driven you away.”

Dipping lower onto your back you bit your lip at the sore knot his fingers hit, “By that logic I assume each gift giving holiday I’ll have mountains of gifts under that same explanation.”

“If that’s what you wish for.”

In a turn to face him you caught his loving gaze and weak chuckle at your playful glare, “You know I don’t want a mountain of gifts, you know that.” Through his low chuckle stirring from your hand gripping his collar to pull his forehead to rest against yours he nipped at his lip then released it to accept your kiss. Softly your hand eased around the side of his neck through the loving lip lock as his hands eased over your cheeks only to chuckle again at his drawing back.

In a purr he stated, “Your back Love.” A grumble came from you as you rolled your eyes and leaned in to steal another kiss when his hands lowered, gliding your arms around his neck while climbing onto his lap.

After a few minutes of fighting a losing battle against his own wish to hold you in the now heated tangling sprawl across you bed a low muffled growl sounded along your neck at the doorbell pulling him off of you as he said, “That’d be dinner.”

Furrowing your brows you sat up fixing your top asking, “Dinner?”

He smirked back at you, “Ordered it on my way over.”

Following him through the house you eyed the large order he and the delivery boy carried into the living room table before he paid and tipped the boy and showed him back out again. Back at your side he curled his hand around yours setting you on the couch saying, “Back rub Love. Then food and as many kisses as you like.”

Firmly his hands returned to your back and the knots he had yet to ease away, “How long have you had the ring?”

“It,” Weakly chuckling behind you he replied, “it’s the final design after a long line since graduation.”

“So you just kept working on it, after?”

He wet his lips behind you, “Part of my role in courtship is to honor my word to you. I promised you one of the rarest set of stones and designs I could find. I’d already secured the stones from my Uncle, before, and well I spent a decade working them off. Wasn’t till the past year I’d finally understood the design perfect for it. Your notes in psych, they all had that little doodle on them marking which columns you marked things in trying to keep your Dwarvish runes in line.”

In a scoffing chuckle you fired back, “I will have you know switching from Hobbitish to Khuzdul is not easy.”

He chuckled lowly, “I remember our lessons in Uni perfectly and every dent in the walls we made in our frustrating vocab lessons.”

“I’m certain it’s all gone now no doubt.”

Wetting his lips through his smirk he switched to Hobbitish, “I’ll have you know, out of spite Bilbo enforced our lessons on the whole family. Boys are fluent now too. Though names are a bit tricky.”

With a soft giggle you replied, “Figures, he was the best at enforcing studying habits. Except for when Dwalin wore those shorts of his.”

Thorin laughed behind you, “Ah, those, still has them.” Leaning in he lowly added, “Doesn’t think I know about him still having them tucked away.” Making you giggle again.

“They do make his thighs look incredible I bet still.”

You giggled again at Thorin’s chuckling lean in to kiss your cheek, “I am certain he would love to hear he’s still got his ‘honey thighs’ from someone other than his Hubby.”

In a firm pat on his legs beside yours he smirked as you said, “Why didn’t we ever get you a pair again?”

He chuckled replying, “Because you kept giving me that smile and my pants never really stayed on long enough for you to have enjoyed them.”

You nodded as his arms snaked around you when his hands had finally reached your hips, resting against his chest you stole a peck on his cheek, “Can I ask how the acorn’s holding up?”

After a nip at his lip he rumbled back, “Still intact. Dain demanded a touch up last year.”

“Demanded?” you fired back in a giggle.

Chuckling he replied, “Yes. Even my testicles are not free from his demand for his pristine condition on his work. Dwalin made sure I was cooperative.” You giggled again, “Frerin even stated you would want the marker of our shared secret intact when we got back together.”

“You, all planned us getting back together?”

Thorin nodded, “Bilbo even got time off in a few weeks, was going to go out there and find you. Demand you come home. The kids were going to be involved, pouting and crying until you agreed.”

“I don’t think it would have taken all that to get me back…”

“Did you enjoy it at least? Grey Havens?” His arms loosened helping you turn to start on the food.

“Um. I had a nice garden Lovely set of wind chimes. Drew in flocks of humming birds my neighbors hated, but I loved them, so beautiful. Work, was work.” His brow rose when he met your eye curiously, “I love my art, all the projects I have loved it, my boss, utter trash, but work I loved it.”

He smiled at you, “I did get a message from Dis on lunch to ask for a glimpse at what you’d done today for the project she left you.” His eyes scanned over you, “You are able to handle work right now?”

You nodded, “Ya, just got a bit wrapped into it. Habit with the old schedule. Used to get so many projects, had to go through novels in a matter of days.”

“Really? Can’t imagine you got much sleep.”

“I made time.”

He smirked at you, “Juice?” You nodded and watched him walk to the kitchen to fetch your drinks and return eyeing you rotating your shoulders, “Still sore?”

You shook your head, “No, just have to stretch and rotate them or they try to lock up when I sleep since bed rest.”

“I noticed you’re a bit slimmer.”

You nodded accepting the glass from him, “I’ll be happy when I can start exercise again. It’ll help with the new jiggly bits, and I’ll steady out again, not feel so helpless.”

Seated beside you he cupped your cheek stealing another kiss, “You have never been helpless.” Holding his adoring smile even through your eyes filling with tears, “I love you, and I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re far from helpless.” Stroking his thumb across your cheek claiming the tears there, “You managed to illustrate for an entire children’s book today. In one day! Dis hasn’t been able to do that in a week most cases!” After a gentle kiss on your cheek he continued, “You are magnificent, and no one in that office could have imagined anyone being able to silence that man and his expectations.”

With a smirk you replied, “Bard really put a lot of work into it.”

“Ooh, do tell?” His smirk eased out as he filled your plate and then his own scooting a bit closer to you, letting you continue your old habit of laying your legs across his.

“It’s a bedtime story he told his daughters and Son after their Mom passed. Apparently Dis says he’s got a whole series he’s wanting to put out, just couldn’t find the right person to illustrate it.”

His smile inched out more through your explanation, “No wonder he’s so certain on wanting you for it. I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with. Dis mentioned you’ve made quite a leap since uni.”

“Well I’ve had a lot of time to practice since I’m done with all that studying.”

“I bet, and all those hours you used to spend sleeping in your extra jobs, hell of an addition to your free practice time.”

“Exactly.” His smile grew as you gave him a playful smile and soft giggle.

When dinner was through you helped him clean up and followed him back to your room where he poured a bath for you as you pulled out a change of clothes. In the bathroom you set your clothes on the counter catching his smile as he stood from adding the oils to your bath in a glance over his layers he couldn’t help but smirk. “I know that look. That look got us nearly naked in that cabin.”

Smirking at him in return, “If I remember correctly I was not the only one giving a look. You did that whole, pouting smirk thing.” He shifted his face to try and remember the look as you giggled pointing at him, “Close.” Drawing his smile back, “Have to furrow the brow too.” Earning a chuckle from him, “And don’t think I didn’t hear the Boom from Frerin and you when we hit all those courting markers. Including when you first sat around me in class.”

He nodded and chuckled softly, “Ya, we haven’t, haven’t said Boom in ages it seems.”

Smiling at him you replied, “I miss the Boom.”

His smile grew moving closer to help you out of your shirt, “We’ll bring it back then.” Leaning in as he tossed the top onto the sink he pressed his lips to yours, “Just for you kurkarukê.”

Rolling your eyes you eased your hands around his neck as he stole another kiss and pressed his forehead to yours, “Would it be strange to ask if you’d join me?”

“Not strange at all.”

Pulling your head back you nipped at your lip before saying, “Cuz I sort of need help with my back and hair.” His smile grew, “You’re a bit broader, I can help with yours too if you like.”

He chuckled softly, claiming another kiss, “Only if you want to.” Leaning down he helped ease you out of your pants and panties while you undid your bra and tossed it onto your discarded tank top, stepping out of your clothes he added to the pile before starting to unbutton his shirt. As he eased it down he caught your lips purse in your inspecting his reflection in the mirror.

Your curious walk around him stirred a chuckle from him as he tossed his shirt away with yours and reached down to add his socks to the mix joining the pile. His hands paused when your fingers tapped your name across the rim of the anvil between twin ravens across his shoulders forming part of what would begin the family tree for you both under the seven stars, six black and one bright blue for his clan, to be added on with small hammers and axes for each pebble under the anvil.

Your soft sniffle caused him to turn and curl you in a tight hug. Against his shoulder you mumbled, “Dis saw the ring this morning.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t heard of it already.”

“It does look an awful lot like an engagement ring.” He couldn’t help at your slightly leading statement silently requesting a clarification.

“That’s because it is, if you’ll have me?”

“This isn’t just because of the Pebbles question?”

Pulling back he shook his head, “Not at all. I mean it, I want to have a family with you. No matter what, I’m yours.”

“I can keep you?”

He nodded purring back, “You can keep me.” Your smiles fought to grow nearly ending the kiss you pulled him into. In a momentary parting he said, “We should get you in the tub.”

As he let you down he claimed another kiss from you then turned you guiding you into the tub, lowering down behind you after moving the soaps within reach. Each gentle caress over you was thoughtfully given, assuring you were lovingly soaped and rinsed off, leaving it purely as his doting way of ensuring your every inch was cared for before moving to your side to carefully washing your hair for you. Curled against his chest after he braided your hair into a braid he twisted into a bun. You nipped at your lip when he helped you out and to dry off you slid your fingers along his asking, “You wouldn’t happen to have your ring still?”

Reaching up he wove his fingers into his hair in a tucked bun, with a hidden braid he drew out to unhook the ring from and passed it to you stirring your smile wider at the acorn and Hobbitish runes around the simple band marking your name and Mother’s clan markers. Carefully you slid it back into place on his ring finger widening his smile as you peered up at him and giggled softly through his crashing kiss he wrapped and lifted you in his arms carrying you to the sink where he helped you into another pair of pajamas and into the bedroom where he pulled on a new pair of boxer briefs and a pair of sweats over. Then grabbed all your dirty clothes to add to the clothes hamper and joined you on the bed, stealing another kiss from you before nipping his lip as you pulled up the first of the images drawing an audible gasp from him.

By the fourth chapter’s images your front door opened and Dis with a long stream of Durins behind her filled the house as she called out, “I know I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything until the morning, but, well, I lied. We’re here,” her eyes landed on you as she climbed onto the bed curling at your free side pulling you into a tight hug, “It’s long overdue. Officially, welcome to the family.” One by one they all claimed their own hugs and offered their dessert offerings between sharing their own Khuzdul sentiments and well wishes between your happy tears at the sudden family gathering.

Pt 4

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr

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ghostlyfacedream · 3 years

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um, good morning. or afternoon here, i guess. it's 1:25 pm. i'm going to start a diary. even if it's not official or fancy or well thought out. even if it's short blips here and there when i have a thought to share. i need somewhere to share, and my hands are too fucked up to write physically in a book, and that would just make it worse. i also know that i need to :post: or :upload: whatever i type because i feel the need to have an audience, to be seen and acknowledged. i know that there isn't anyone out there reading this, but typing it into a post that CAN be seen is different from typing into a doc where i am alone in a empty chamber.

ok, so... i'm hungry. i've been hungry since last night. i didn't eat though. tomorrow we are having pizza. i want to save up for that. maybe just two pieces with garlic dip. mm.

my tattoo is healing nicely. i'm 18. i walked into the shop off the street and asked for one a while back. it's still cloudy but it's been gradually clearing up. most people need 30 days to fully heal their tattoos; given my genetic disorders i wouldn't be suprised if it took double that time, or even triple. i like it, even though i keep getting caught off guard and thinking it's a bug on my arm. i guess that happens when you're so disconnected from your own body all of the time. i forget what i look like, i forget i have a tattoo now, etc etc.

i'm making a new friend at work, i think. their name is cecelia. they're very pretty, like their name - they remind me of a deer with their big brown eyes and gentle demure nature. i like joking around with them. i intrusively feel the need to let them know that i am not hitting on them - i'm incredibly aromantic. i'm socially inept though, and i'd like to have friends, but i don't know how to behave, so i sort of fumble over my lines and shuffle around in a costume that's three sizes too big for me. it's like i missed all of the dress rehersals and then boom, suddenly i'm in a play and everyone knows how to act but i'm flying in with my head in my back pocket.

anyways, cecelia invited me to hang out. and they talk to me about all kinds of personal stuff, like mental health issues. and like i said, we joke around. so i feel like we could be really close, if i don't make this weird somehow. i made them a pair of earrings - during our first week (we got hired on the same day) they complimented my green earrings. i make my own earrings out of little trinkets i find and collect, and one of the kitchsy little things i made was a pair of green clothespin earrings. they said they really liked them, asked me where i got them. so i made them a pair. yellow, which is their favourite color. i'll give it to them next time i see them. i plan on putting a little disinfectant wipe - the ones i use for my shots- in there for them to clean the earrings. covid times, and all that. i hope they like them. i hope it's not weird.

um, i tried to make this blog as ... bland as i could. i don't want to project an identity here. i was diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder in 2016 and it makes life really hard. when i made this blog, it had yuri's art as the profile picture, and then that made it feel like HER blog instead of the collective MY blog. we are me. anyways. it's really hard. my identity is never the same. i mean, to some extent, it is; i have distingushed parts... but there's no solid me. i have many interests. i seem like someone who can't make up their mind on who they are. but the truth is, i just am... i'm just many people, and they all have their own interests and qualities and ways of thinking, and it makes interacting with me really really hard. it makes living as me really really hard.

i wish i was normal. i think about that a lot actually. maybe too much, lately. i promised when i started this blog that i wouldn't censor myself. my therapist - ex therapist, rather - said i spend too much time choosing what to omit when i speak to people. she used to say that she could see me picking through my thoughts, choosing which ones to share and how best to word them. i focus more on being presentable than what i have to present. so i needed a place to just spit out everything, uncensored, undevoured. the roast chicken, meat stripped off of it's bones and laid out for the guests - they are starving, there is nothing there.

so here's the first uncensored thought: i wish i was a woman. specifically, i wish i was an endosex cisgender woman. it's distasteful, but i find myself watching pornography and wishing for their soft and supple forms - silky skin, round, curvy bodies. beautiful lips, long hair, delicate hands. i've always been fascinated by drawing the naked form - i suppose there's just an alluring siren's call that i feel in my bones when i see the warmth of a lovely lady radiate from her very being. you see, i was born outside of the boxes. a messy smear. they made a choice when i popped out, raised me girl, gave me estrogen when my body wasn't doing what it was being asked to do. i grew girl, lived girl, tried girl. i tried so hard. you have no idea. i wanted it so badly. swirly skirts and long golden hair and painted lips. - now, i don't believe that these things are gendered. i believe that humans of any shape, size, form or spirit can do whatever they please in the means of self expression. but for me, there was always some underlying PRESSURE of NOT BEING GIRL ENOUGH. i was wanted girl. i had a broad chest, and large hands. i was hairy. i had a deep voice. my feet did not fit into girl's shoes. bits of me stuck out in women's clothing where women have no bits TO stick out. it hurt. it still does. i understand that i have some deeply rooted intersexism that leads me to apply the gender norms to myself, but i promise i don't think that way of other people. which leads me to... why them, but not me? why can other people be fat, hairy, wear makeup or no makeup, wear short skirts or cover every inch of their body - why do i praise and support gender nonconformity, women with beards and facial hair, men with long hair and makeup, shaving or no shaving, dyed pubic hair and jewelry - but when it comes to me, it's not okay? i rejoice in the trans community, femmes with voices as dark as tinted glass, or midnight, or the cat's rumbling purr. masculine entities with curves, and high voices, and typically "feminine" traits, because fuck that, traits are traits, and we can mix and match, and there is no restraint here because we are all living, breathing animals with vibrant souls and a taste for love and laughter. i accept everything. but i'm a hypocrite. my shoulders are too big for dresses. my skin is too hairy. my voice is too low for a woman, too high for a man. clothes do not fit me - men's pants cannot cling to my hips, women's tops cannot fit over my shoulders. i wear bags, or blankets, or nothing at all, hiding away in my room. i don't want to be seen. i don't want to know of the world and it's specifics around what shape my body isn't. my hands are big and clumsy. my chest didn't grow, and then when it did, it was incredibly lopsided. my bones don't even fit me, not sure what sex they belong to, pressing at the seams or curling grotesquely to fit inside my body. the only time i see others like me on tv... we are freaks. we are shemales, or wonders of nature, or abominations. we are hermaphodites, fucked up humans who grew the wrong parts or not enough of the right ones. we are misgendered, or prodded at on fictional doctor dramas and made spectacles, fucked up malformities to be gawked at. they want to guess what is in your pants, how you were raised - did they choose to mulitate you to make you more one way or the other? they want to know what's inside you, what is inside you, what's inside you? testes? ovaries? both? nothing? take it out, or put it in, fill you with hormones to make you normal, we joke about celebrities on the news - are they a hermaphodite? you have a girly face mr bieber, are you a hermaphodite? were you born with a penis, lady gaga? we are fetishized, but disgusting. horrific, and captivating, because people love the boygirl with their androgyny. i hate it. i want to rip my body to pieces. i want to sink my nails into flesh and bone and tear away. i want to throw my organs as far as i can, you failed me, you failed me, you failed me. i want to rip away until i am nothing but a floating concience. i hate it here. i always have.

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theviolenceking · 7 years

Text

A Beginning, Pt. 1, 2077

It was five, when I got the news.

Possible sightings of Chinese underwater craft, and confirmed reports of unrecognized aircraft at the United States borders. I don’t know how it was that I knew, but I understood what needed to be done. I slid on my leather jacket, threw on some of my older brothers pants, laced up my running shoes, and went to the phone. I remembered my old man’s words. “Son, a war is fast on the approach. And you aren’t safe, but I can make it so you are. Go to sanctuary, to the vault they have there. I can’t promise that they’ll be able to allow you in, but it is your only hope of making it through what’s to come. In the vault, there is safety. In the vault.” I couldn’t have possibly told you that day three months prior, that I didn’t think he was absolutely off his rocker. But, this wasn’t three months prior.

Things had escalated recently. Rather, escalations had been more prevalent recently. Riots, protests against whatever virus the government and military had cooked up, and that damned company Vault-Tec stirring up tensions about nuclear war by practically shoving the concepts of protection from the end in our faces. Still. I didn’t feel right making this call. I spun out the number for my dad’s private phone, anxiously tapping the wall as the ringing slowly came from my end. “C'mon…. c'mon….” *kt-chak* “Hello?” I wasted no words. “Dad, call the crack-pots at the vault, get me in. Tell whatever lies you think are necessary, but don’t leave me out here. I got your e-mail. And I need in. Help. Please. It’s bad. I know it, you know it so please.” The desperation in my voice was painful. I wasn’t supposed to sound like this. I was the son of a general, the brother to a United States marine. Men among men. Soldiers who went to any situation with strong minds and even stronger attitudes. They weren’t afraid of anything. But… I wasn’t them. While my brother went out and served his country, I stayed at home, fixing up old computers and messing around with robots in the area. A troublemaker and a disgrace to my families legacy. And yet, my father responded. “They know you’re coming, son. I knew you would call. So don’t waste any more time. I know you’ll be fine. So go, live. And son…. I…..” I couldn’t listen. One last little voice in my head saying it was all okay I suppose.

I practically slammed the phone on the receiver and ran out, finding very quickly the motorcycle my brother had left behind when he went to join the service in the garage. Had to hand it to him, he had style. But, I had smarts. He took the keys with him, said he’d teach me how to drive it when he got back. I couldn’t possibly have waited that long so I rigged it. I twisted the fusion core at the back of the bike, pulled it out, and pushed it back in, twisting again in the reverse fashion. At first there was a small sputter, and so with one more quick turn I changed that sputter into a beautiful rolling purr. Oh man if big bro only knew. I locked the core back into place and hopped on, revving up the throttle once or twice before setting out onto the streets, the tires of the bike carrying me in the direction of Concord. I knew it would be a long shot, but if I was expected then it wouldn’t be too difficult to just get to the vault in a straight shot from there.

The road there calmed me some. There was always something about riding, something that just eased away all my cares and anxieties. But for the first time. They lingered. When I got to concord I saw a few people. A few gentleman on their ways to work, some folks waiting outside the museum or perhaps taking the first smoke break of the day. They did have to maintain that stupid Civil war exhibit after all. Really, there was some part of me that felt bad for them. But as I got off the bike and my feet hit the ground, I didn’t take any time to ponder on it. I blazed a trail away from the museum, down that main street of town that would take me to the Sanctuary Hills neighborhood. Back when the older brother wasn’t so old, he and I would have stopped at one of these stores to grab a drink or some snacks to relax and enjoy life. No time now. I burnt past the small town’s outer limits and up the road. Someone people were at the red rocket station, probably trying to bargain for some coolant. Lord only knew what the prices were up to at that point. I only stopped when I’d reached the bridge. Sunlight was just starting to crest the horizon and I could see the glimmer of military transports at the town. I smiled, and pushed onward. Into the town toward the transport.

“Halt!” I suddenly had guns pointed at me, and my hands practically flew upward. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I’m General Wades son! General Wade Hollis. Please, please don’t shoot! I’m here to get into the vault. He said he called….” One there were three soldiers, each staring at me, each one assessing me and seeming to search for any falseness in my words before one of them started laughing. “Yeah, you’re definitely his kid alright, Devin Hollis’s runt brother. Ain’t no trying to copy that mug. Hurry up kid, the vaulties need their technobabble shit looked over before orientation.” I hadn’t really understood what he said, not entirely anyway, but I was greatful at the time to just be allowed to pass. I didn’t stop the rest of the way there. Save for when I was greeted at the gate by the soldiers in power armor and a vault tech security lady. She made sure I was who I said and led me to the vault access thing. “You ever seen a vault kid?” I shook my head while staring at the access. “No, is it a long way down?” She snorted. “Only a few hundred meters. More than enough to keep you and the rest of us safe. Safe to say you know?” I nodded, and she smiled. “Don’t worry kid, I’ll go down with you. My shift is ending anyway. Just step onto the platform and we’ll be on our way.” Another nod from me as we stepped onto the cog shaped plane together. I shifted nervously and felt a hand grip my shoulder. “Relax kid, we’ll be safe soon.” Another smile from her, the sound of alarms to signal the platform, and we began to descend. I felt… afraid, queasy, and altogether uneasy. But this, this was what was supposed to happen, right?

“So, you’re the General’s son, yeah? Guy cashed in alot of favors to get you in here. Said you were good with terminals and even better at finding trouble. Think you could have a look at my personal terminal? I’ll give you some Nuka Cola.” Hah. What did that matter? According to them, it was the end of the world today. Still, I couldn’t just pass up an offer like that so… “Sure, just as long as you don’t mind having a troublemaker scrounge around your personal files. Hope you don’t have anything scandalous uploaded there.” I held back a slight grin. “Just some sexy pin-ups. Love a girl with a little something extra on her. Nice hips, round asses. The like.” I started choking on the air as I fought for something to say while the platform slowly came to a stop at a gate which began to rise soon after. She was walking away before I found my thoughts and a look over her shoulder had be doubtful that what she’d just said was a joke. So much for a relaxing few weeks. This was going to be quite eventful indeed! I shook my head and finally cleared up enough to follow after her. “Wait up, uh… whatever your name is…” Some small part of me felt guilty for not remembering her name. The other parts were feeling something close to stupidity because well, she hadn’t given it. Duh. “Serenity Dunwich. Call me Renny.” I wanted to believe the name meant something, or had some sort of connection somewhere. But for now I was drawing blanks. So we continued into the vault proper. Now I saw a measure of genius. Double layered doors to completely seal us all off from radiation. First was the elevator platform and those sliding doors way up above that would block the blast itself and allow us to get back out…. Hopefully. But the real door was down here. And man, was that sucker huge. Renny allowed me to gaze about for a few more moments before tugging at my jacket and having me continue onward. “C'mon kid, gotta get you into your new uniform.” Uniforms, fantastic. Now I was back at school with dress codes and rules. Probably. I was led over to a man in a vault tech coat and a woman in a vault suit. I had to make sure to focus my attention on her eyes. Something about the way the suit fit was just…. yikes. I was told how things would go, what I needed to do, and how I needed to do it. I was told about the cryostasis, about the people that would be coming in, and that I was to have no contact with them whatsoever. I was a new factor in all this. So while they did want me informed, they did not want me able to inform anyone else that didn’t need to be. To that end Serenity was assigned to me as “security” and told to take me further into the vault to the staff quarters so I could get changed.

As she led me onward, I thought of what must have been going on up above. People smiling, laughing, waking up and getting ready for the day. Children coming to and realizing “hey, today is Saturday, no school” and getting excited to go and spend a day at their friends homes after they got their chores done. I thought of my brother, standing his ground in Alaska fighting for all that made America great. I thought of the protests that would undoubtedly still occur outside the Boston courthouse and over near the state building. And the more I thought about it, the further it all seemed. Nuclear war. That was the thought that came and washed away all the others. The complexities of all that had brought it about, and the simplicity of how it could and would likely happen. Boom, flash, whoosh, gone. All in that order. No more smiling, no more laughing. Children playing, chores. Dad. Devin. I didn’t realize I had started shedding tears until I failed to stop walking and kept going right into Serenity. She didn’t move as we stood there. So, I rested my forehead on her shoulder, shut my eyes tight; and we stood there as my tears slowly ran down her arm and sank into the vaultsuit.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to… to just scream. In agony, in rage, in whatever unrelenting feeling I was getting deep in my bones that said nothing was alright! Nothing was alright and I couldn’t fix it! I clenched my hands, I felt my nails digging into my palms, I felt the tears running hot from my burning eyes as I stood there! And cried. When Serenity turned around, carefully making sure that I wouldn’t fall over and embraced me, I stopped. Slowly sniffling and sputtering out an apology as I tried to regain some of my composure against her. This was, without any measure of doubt, the worst day of my life. It took a few more minutes, but I pulled away from her, wiping away the remaining tears with my sleeves and taking deep breaths.

After what felt like an overly awkward pause I let out a cough to clear my throat. “T-thank you…. continue on the way please.” Serenity stared at me, looking deep into my eyes, before turning and continuing with a quiet, “Okay.” in response. As we got to a private little area she ushered me in and went over to a locker. “So, what’s the new uniform look like? As good as yours?” She seemed to snort at that before blushing and shaking her head. “No, no. No one wears this like I do. Still, we had an extra in your size, and a lab coat here as well. You’ll be doing the maintenance on our terminals and keeping everyone up to speed with any changes you make to the software while you’re down here. Sound good?” I nodded in the affirmative and was pulled over to the locker as she stepped out. “Don’t take too long. I’ll be back in a few minutes to make sure you’re all good. Wouldn’t want to catch you with your pants down.” Renny smiled, and then she was gone. I don’t know how she did it. How she smiled even as she knew what was happening.

As I pulled the suit from the locker I felt a pang of guilt. How many people would see this color today and know that they were safe? Not many, I wouldn’t think. As that thought passed through my head I pulled my jacket off. Then my shirt, next the belt. My pants, socks. I figured it was best that I leave my briefs on. Just in case the suit didn’t quite want to go on properly. But, that fear was ungrounded. And as I slipped into that blue and yellow suit emblazoned with a number across the back, the world ended.

I felt it. A tremor. Nothing big. Nothing small. Just that small shake of the vault. And I felt it. A cold chill that filled my entire being.

9:47, October 23rd, 2077. A nuclear device had just erased home. So, I zipped up my vaultsuit. Then slipped on the lab coat Renny had pointed out to me. And I said goodbye to my old life. And with one final shuddering breath.

I stepped out to meet Renny, with a feigned smile and tears beginning once again in the corners of my eyes.

“Let’s get started. Home sweet home.”

“Vault 111.”

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout fic #first real post #i think #yeah #theviolenceking

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